Sarang Isseoyo
by yan.hua-hua
Summary: Vivian Myong, a medical intern, faces an odd assignment: A platinum haired woman who doesn't know why she's in the ER. Tons of OCs, eventually yuri. Now playing: Yeol.
1. Annyeong

Disclaimer: Ivy and Soul Calibur are property of Namco. I do however own anyone who is a Myong, Kim, Kang, Hong, Hyeong, Mitarai, or Lin; and the story itself.

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Vivian Myong's hair was in her face again. Irritatedly, she pushed the raven tresses behind her right ear, only to have them spring back in front of her eyes. She sighed, made a mental note to get a cut on the weekend, and studied the chart in front of her.

She was startled from her work by a combination of screeching wheels and shouting voices. She looked up from behind the triage desk.

Whomever they were wheeling in had a noticeable lack of a left foot. Unable to clearly distinguish words from one another ('That coffee's not working fast enough,'), she watched as the loud, bloodied procession continued down a corridor to the first set of trauma rooms. A little taken off guard by such an injury at only 9 AM, she ducked her head back under her newfound trench.

She stifled a yawn, lamenting her decision to watch the end of the Korean soap opera on TV. She hadn't meant to get hooked on it, it was more of a time-consumer really. Yet like any foul weed allowed to take root in a garden, it spread and took over.

'It's not all that bad, technically it is related to my own life,' She reasoned, thinking of the show's female protagonist. 'So what if it's set in the 16th century, and she's the head physician to the emperor? If Copeland had his way, he'd be emperor too.' She looked over at the department head, who sat contentedly with a cup of coffee.

Speaking of which...

She also lamented making her coffee a little weaker, after noticing her hands twitching while she was idle.

'Awareness is worth scaring a few people,' The intern decided as she pushed her chair back. Clutching the chart to her chest, she walked briskly toward exam room one.

'And exhaustion is worth watching Dae Jang Geum.'

A spark, that's all it was at first. Barely a flicker across the synapse. Muscles twitched involuntarily, then stilled. A moment later, another hardly significant wave of feeling. Gradually, the consciousness waded up through the layers of unconsciousness and began to tread water at the surface of the sedated mind. Awareness began the difficult task of rising above the clouded abstractions of the unconscious brain, finally making a major breakthrough across the expanse.

Warmth.

The sensation of warmth slowly felt it's way along the entire body, making muscles fire and circulation increase to all appendages; shallow breathing was replaced with deep, meaningful inhalations. Muscles fired and relaxed, sending new sensations through the body's network to the awakening mind: Pain, and bruising spread out over a fair bit of both the lower and upper halves. Nerve endings activated and detected the presence of a warm blanket, and something attached to the back of the left hand. A set of sapphires fluttered open, and peered at the strange device through a veil of platinum hair.

"You're not going to try to tear that out again, are you?" Came a tired sounding voice. The pair of eyes searched the room for the source of the sound, finally resting on an Asian woman standing near the door. The young woman moved forward until she stood over the occupied bed. "I'm Dr. Myong, do you know where you are?"

The set of ice eyes now focused on a sort of badge pinned to the doctor's white coat. A small but clearly visible picture of the Asian woman was situated next to the text 'Myong, Vivian'. Aware enough now was the person that they began to feel the first pangs of a headache. Automatically a hand went to massage the temple.

"Do you have a headache?" Vivian asked. Not quite awake enough to force speech, the incapacitated patient nodded. Vivian moved over to a cabinet by the door and began searching a cupboard. She found what she was looking for and moved back over to her case. A standard size syringe was positioned between her thumb and first two fingers, cleaning swabs between the other two.

"This will take the pain away. It's also a stimulant." She explained, positioning herself next to her patient. She watched her subject shift uncomfortably. "It's only going to sting for a moment." She made her voice softer, more reassuring. "I need you to turn over, alright?" Her patient complied and turned away from Vivian, allowing her access to the preferred injection site. Vivian tore open one of the alcohol swabs and cleaned a small patch of skin just to the left of the bottom vertebra. The cold swab made the patient shiver.

Vivian laid her left hand on the patient's curved hip, pressing her thumb just beside the cleaned site. She positioned the needle on the spot.

"Can you tell me your name?" Vivian asked as she pushed the needle into the soft flesh.

The patient winced a tiny bit, but managed to find a response.

"Ivy," A voice with a British timbre replied. Vivian removed the now empty syringe and took it back to the cabinet. She placed it in a sharp box.

"That's a pretty name." Vivian remarked as she threw out the used alcohol swabs.

"What's your's?" Ivy asked out of politeness, though she already knew the answer.

"You can call me Vivian or Dr. Myong, whichever one you prefer." Vivian stood over Ivy's bed again. "I'm done; you can relax now." Ivy returned to her back. She looked up at the Asian woman. "I need to ask you some questions now, is that alright?" Vivian asked in that soft tone again. Ivy nodded. Vivian paused for a breath, then continued.

"Do you know where you are?" She asked.

"I'm going to assume this is a hospital," Ivy stated.

"Correct. What city is this?"

Ivy stopped for a moment. Where was she? She must've taken too long, because Vivian proceeded right onto her next question.

"How old are you?"

"32." Ivy sighed relief, at least some of these were easy.

"Do you know how you got here?"

Ivy paused again. She racked her brain, but had no recollection of anything before meeting Dr. Myong.

"...No."

Vivian was visibly perturbed by Ivy's answer. She waited a long time before asking her next question with dread:

"Do you know what happened to you?"

Ivy froze.

"W-what?"

Vivian glanced at the clock above the door. "About three hours ago someone contacted an ambulance. You were found face down in the snow." Ivy was already becoming nervous, and she could tell that Dr. Myong wasn't done yet. "Your clothing was also torn in several places, including between your legs." Vivian stopped for another breath. Ivy winced again as she imagined what the doctor was going to say next. "We suspect you've been raped."

Ivy flinched as the weight of those words sunk in fully.

"I-I see," She stammered weakly.

"We'd like your permission to do a sexual assault kit, to see if there's anything we can match to a suspect." Vivian said, her voice firm yet supportive.

"Sexual assault kit?" Ivy asked for clarification.

"It's basically just some swabs and physical examinations. If there's anything that can help us find the attacker, we'd like to have it." Ivy shifted under the intern's words.

"Who is going to...?" She couldn't finish.

"A nurse is going to take care of it, and then she'll inform me of the results." Vivian reached over and put her hand on top of Ivy's hand, avoiding crushing the IV line. She gave it a light squeeze. A click of the door handle drew her attention away from her patient.

"Dr. Myong?" A somewhat timid voice said. Vivian withdrew her hand and stood, looking at the door.

"Yes?" The answer sounded more like a statement than a question. The door opened enough to permit access for another young woman with a skin tone that betrayed southeast Asian roots. "Ah, Ms. Lakhani. I'll leave you to your work." She said as she pushed the chair back to it's original spot, holding the chart in one hand. She turned to face Ivy, whose eyes flashed with confusion and apprehension.

"She's here to do the exam," Vivian explained. Ivy's expression remained unchanged. Feeling the anxiety radiate from her patient, she tried her best to look compassionate. "I'll see you in a while, 'kay?" She softened her voice. It worked rather well, for Ivy visibly relaxed as soon as she spoke. Vivian gave a small smile, then turned to the nurse. "I'd like the results in my hands as soon as you have them," She said in a voice befitting an ER physician. The nurse nodded, then walked over to Ivy's bed. Vivian swept out of the room.

"Alright," The nurse started in a friendly voice. She pushed down the metal guardrails on either side of Ivy. "What's your name?" She said, trying to relax the nervous woman in front of her.

"Ivy," Ivy said, her voice hiding her emotions.

"Hi Ivy, my name's Soneera. I'm here to complete some examinations for Dr. Myong. Has she explained what this is for?" She spoke calmly as she walked around the bed, moving various things. She moved to the top of Ivy's blanket and pulled it back slightly.

"Yes," Ivy's voice hid nothing this time.

"Ok. I'm going to tell you what I'm doing as I work, just so you know what's going on. I realize this isn't the most comfortable feeling in the universe." She pulled the blanket down gently, just past Ivy's ankles. Ivy shivered involuntarily. She closed her eyes, blocking out the sensation of gloved hands on her legs.

"Alright. First off, I'd like you to take a deep breath and relax..."

"_Onara onara aju ona, Gadara Gadara aju gana,_" Vivian murmured, walking down the hallway towards the washroom. The ER was oddly quiet, considering it was both Tuesday _and_ a full moon.

'Not that I'm complaining,' She mused, stifling a yawn and looking at her watch. '2 PM.' She yawned again. 'Damn, it's a good thing I'm not on call this week.' She pushed open the washroom door with her shoulder.

"_Nanari daryeodo mot nonani, Aniri aniri ani none..._"

'I have _really_ got to stop watching that show.'

Vivian stifled what had to be her thousandth yawn of the day at exactly 6:30. Brian Copeland, the department head/self-appointed emperor was relaying to her information of some sort about a patient, in his typical slightly self-inflating manner.

'The coffee's going back up to regular strength tomorrow,' She vowed silently, trying to pay attention to her superior's speech.

"... She's in exam room one, I saw to that right away. I take it you saw her?" Vivian became aware that the man had asked a question.

'Exam room one... oh, he means Ivy.' "Yes, at about nine this morning. She complained of a headache so I gave her a subcutaneous injection of Tiparol, and Soneera administered the sexual assault kit after I left." She relaxed, feeling her answer was sufficient.

"Does she have a name?" The department head asked condescendingly. Vivian bit back a sarcastic remark, choosing to save it for another day.

"Ivy, but that's all I've gotten out of her so far. She's got a British accent though," Vivian replied. Copeland rubbed his chin and smirked.

"Very well," He started, leaning back in his leather office chair. As department head, he had his own little private space, consisting of a private desk and a computer; his medical diplomas were displayed along the wall in such a way that any visitors would see them as soon as they set foot inside. A small medical library was enclosed in wall high shelves behind the desk, most of the books quite thick. Vivian felt rather small in this imposing room.

'No wonder he likes it so much, it's just as self-centred and egotistical as he is.' She allowed herself to grin on the inside, her face a perfect emotionless mask to the outside world. Brian continued.

"You're going to get more information out of her tomorrow. I'm assigning her to you for the rest of her stay. Therefore, I'm also lowering the number of cases you'll take until she leaves. " He droned. Vivian's eyes flashed confusion. "She came in with severe hypothermia very early this morning, and I'm not prepared to let her go yet. If you can get an address out of her sometime within the next three days, I'll discharge her." He explained as if he were talking to a child. Though at 25 Vivian was at least nine years younger than him, she certainly didn't care for that kind of treatment. The emperor looked at the clock.

"You're dismissed, Dr. Myong. Get some sleep, you don't look too well." Vivian nodded obeisance and stood to leave, also looking at the clock.

'I survived a whole fifteen minutes of his ego-stroking? I deserve some sort of medal,' She thought, seeing that it was now 6:45. She quickly said goodbye to Dr. Copeland and left his office, concerned only with changing into street clothes and going home. Or she was, until she passed it.

Exam room one.

'I should probably go check, just for a moment,' She told herself. After all, she hadn't seen her new charge since Soneera Lakhani had taken over for her. 'It won't hurt to just say goodnight,' She rationalized. Besides, if the "emperor" had hinted at anything back in that "palace" of his, it was that she was going to be seeing a lot more of Ivy over the next three days.

The metal Venetian blinds were shut, laughing in the face of anyone who tried to look into the room. Vivian slowly turned the doorknob and tiptoed inside, in case the patient was already sleeping. To Vivian's mild surprise, she wasn't. Vivian went into physician mode.

"How are you doing?" She asked, walking to Ivy's bedside. The woman was significantly more awake than before.

"Better," Ivy replied while trying to get herself into a sitting position.

"Let me help you with that," Vivian offered, moving to assist the woman. Ivy relaxed and let Vivian take her under the arms, pulling her up. The Korean intern freed one arm to prop up Ivy's pillows, then gently laid her against them. "Is that good?" She asked.

"Yes, thank you." Ivy responded, half-yawning. Vivian smiled at her, then got down to business.

"Anyways, I thought I'd pop in to see you before I get out of here. How was your test?" She inquired. Ivy looked to the front of the room. "Hmm. Think of it this way," Vivian started, knowing how her patient felt. Ivy redirected her attention. "It's a one time thing. And no one will ever know the results except for Ms. Lakhani, my boss and I. Well, and you of course," Vivian explained, running her right hand through her hair. Ivy visibly thawed. Vivian also relaxed, grateful that her reassurance speech had worked. "So, did someone explain to you what's going to happen over the next three days?"

Ivy nodded. Vivian continued.

"Alright. So just to reconfirm, we've started you on a few drugs to help combat the hypothermia and reduce the chances of pregnancy if the assault kit comes back positive." Vivian gauged her patient's reaction as she spoke. "We've also started you on some drugs to reduce the risk of any diseases you may have contracted, again just in case the test comes back positive. If that happens, I'll talk to you about certain treatments and programs that can help you, alright?" She asked. Ivy nodded. "Because you were severely hypothermic, you'll be staying here a few days under my supervision. I'm not sure if they'll move you to a different room or not, but I'll be able to find you if they do. If you're well enough by Friday, I might be able to get permission from my boss to release you," Vivian tried to sound hopeful for her patient. "Trust me, you'll be sick of me after three days anyway," She joked. Ivy chuckled, her blue eyes twinkling. For some reason, this made Vivian's spine tingle, but she brushed it off.

'You're suffering from acute caffeine _and_ sleep deprivation,' She diagnosed herself, halfway through a yawn. Ivy yawned too, almost as if she was responding to the intern's.

"You should go to sleep soon," Vivian recommended. "Have you eaten yet?" Ivy nodded.

"Yes, though I don't know if you could call what they gave me 'food'." Ivy looked at her hands, disgust on her face. Vivian smirked.

"Unfortunately I can't hire you a private caterer. Nor can I bring something in for you," She said with a slight regret, having experienced the "fine cuisine" at Toronto General.

Not by choice however.

By extreme hunger related to a 32-hour overnight stay on a rough stretch of on call shift. The call of her stomach overrode the common sense centre of her brain. Vivian brushed the memory aside, feeling a pang of hunger herself.

"All I can say is persevere with the food, and if it's _really_ brutal, fake an allergy. That'll get you something different real fast." Vivian half-joked. Her attention was brought to Ivy's IV line, which had begun to beep annoyingly. "Now what do you want?" She spoke to it, checking the settings on the drip. The top priority was to ensure that no air had become trapped within the line, and having ruled that out, Vivian moved on to checking the bag itself.

"Hmm, This one's done. I'll find a nurse to change that for you before I leave." She said, turning towards the door.

"Dr. Myong," A voice beckoned from behind her. Vivian about-faced to look at her bedridden patient. "Thank you," Ivy said simply. Vivian's lips parted in a small smile.

"You're welcome," She replied, unable to remove the look from her face. "See you tomorrow," She said softly, closing the door behind her with a tiny click.

Sighing, she walked back the way she came to the triage desk. As much as she might try to think otherwise, her patient's well-being came before her own.

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Author's Note: I reposted this with some minor changes.

The Korean words murmured by Vivian are the first few lines to the opening theme from Dae Jang Geum, which is an amazing show in my opinion. It's even neater because it's actually based off of the 'Chronicles of the Joseon Dynasty', a record of that time period in Korea's history. Historical drama beautiful to me.

The story's going to be a bit slow for the first few chapters, because I'm setting up everything exactly the way I want it. The whole thing is basically written in my head, it's only a matter of getting the time to type it up and post it. It'll pick up soon enough, though.


	2. Chonun Vivian imnida

Exam room one was relatively sound-proof, as Ivy learned that evening. Every so often a silhouette passed by, unidentifiable due to the Venetian blinds, but never did she hear a single sound minus the occasional beeping of the strange device attached to her wrist. True to her word, Dr. Myong had sent a nurse to change the transparent bag at the top.

She lay down and closed her eyes, trying to focus on nothing except falling asleep and waking up to find out this was some sort of strange nightmare, that she had simply slept in again, and that she was safe in England. There was no strange hospital, or a Dr. Myong, or whatever it was that they had inserted into her left hand. She had long since come to the conclusion that she was no longer in England or anywhere else in Europe, and by the design of the room, nowhere in Asia either. She had also come to the conclusion that this was most likely not the sixteenth century because of the technology, and her suspicion was confirmed when she asked the nurse what year it was. The reply had been... Well, it took a moment to sink in, but initially she had remained calm.

Truthfully, she was absolutely terrified.

2006. Ivy was somewhat amazed that she hadn't fainted on the spot.

'So everyone... Everyone I've ever known, is dead.' She thought to herself casually. After Vivian had left Ivy remembered that her sword was missing as well. Not quite sure if it was a good idea to ask about it, she tried to remember where it had been last, amazed that it had taken this long to remember what had been a part of her for such a long time. Try as she might, she could remember nothing before her eyes fluttered open and fixated on her Asian practitioner. Frustrated, she turned her back to the door, being careful not to jiggle the instrument on her hand.

"She said I nearly tore it out before," Ivy recalled out loud, touching the foreign object gingerly. It appeared to penetrate the skin, leading her to believe it was administering something into her bloodstream. 'That would be the liquid in there,' She surmised, looking at the IV bag. 'Whatever it is.' Her attention was stolen by the opening of her door. Another nurse escorting a strange looking cart entered the room.

"Hi there," She said, far more cheerfully than Ivy would've thought possible for nearly 8 PM. She began setting up the machine next to Ivy's bed, while the patient watched in fascination. The woman ripped open two tiny squares of paper and removed the packages inside them. "I'm just here to set this up. Can you lie down for me?" Ivy did as she was told, making herself as comfortable as possible on the bed. There wasn't very much give in the mattress.

"Ok," The nurse continued. She set the strange square devices down on the table, letting them rest upon the paper in which they came. "Now I need to open this a little bit," Her hands worked at the sides of Ivy's gown, easing the fabric open. The Englishwoman shivered a little, but it went unnoticed. The nurse placed one of the square objects on Ivy's side, just below her left breast. The second square, which seemed to have a sticky underside, was placed just above the same breast.

"What are those?" Ivy inquired. The nurse, whose identification tag couldn't be seen, smiled at her.

"Electrodes. I hook them up to this," The nurse showed Ivy a wire with a metal clamp on the end. She attached it to a metal tip on the top of the first electrode, then did the same for the other. "And then I turn this on." She bent over to plug the device in behind Ivy's bed, then righted herself and pushed a button belonging to a box on top of the cart. The screen flickered on, a royal blue panel for a moment, then a black screen with a series of lines of many colours. Large numbers were displayed to the right of each line. Some of the lines were flat, while two of them were consistently wavy. A beeping noise started up, sounding at what appeared to be every spike in the first line. "This is so we can monitor you from the front desk," The nurse informed her patient. Ivy watched the screen, nonplussed.

'What kind of world have I woken up in?' She wondered. 'How did I get here?' She was certain it was somehow related to that... that sword she'd been seeking, but her memory lapse prevented her from trying to piece together her final moments in the life she left behind. Ivy watched the nurse press more buttons, ending the sequence with one that said 'wireless output' and uttered a soft thank you as the nurse left, bidding her goodnight. Her head was beginning to hurt and her inability to remember was only serving to make her frustrated.

Yes, it had to be that sword. For months she'd been acting on the advice of that strange Moor man, the one wielded a scythe and attempted to burn down her lab. Such an intrusive cur! His words had lead her to the pursuit of Nightmare again, which despite the many whispers of the return of the Azure Knight, seemed to be only that: whispers. She'd been into more taverns across Europe than she could remember, (Although, the scars upon the many men who propositioned her remembered quite clearly.) heard every rumour from Lisbon to Prague, but always seemed to be just one step behind him. Here the events became quite fuzzy, and Ivy once again found herself becoming frustrated trying to remember. But in her mind was quite clearly imprinted that sword.

Damned if in her current, rather shamed state she could remember it's name.

Her tiredness overcame her and she fell into a very deep sleep.

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'Morning came too early again,' Vivian thought as she rolled over to shut off her alarm. She closed her eyes defiantly against the light coming through the translucent red curtains, which closed off her double bed from the rest of the loft. A pair of hands flew immediately to round almond eyes to rub the sleep from them. She freed one hand and pushed the curtain aside, bathing her in sunlight. She became aware enough at this point to put one foot in front of the other, walking herself into the bathroom.

Vivian toweled her hair dry over a bowl of cereal. Sticking the spoon between her lips, she sat down relatively gracefully on the couch, considering it was six in the morning.

Luckily, she had gotten more sleep the night before, because that infernal Dae Jang Geum was not on.

Damn that show...

_ Onara onara aju ona, Gadara Gadara..._

Vivian forced herself to awaken from her half-sleep, turning on the TV in front of her. The LCD screen flashed to life, a line of Korean on a white background before fading to a man behind a mahogany desk.

"_Annyeong hamnida. Hanguk..._" The anchor spoke in precise, formal words. His suit looked too tight around his torso, and his slicked-back hair was rather greasy looking. Tiny glasses sat upon his nose.

Vivian tuned him out, her attention turned to a tiny bird picking at the feeder on her balcony. It hopped and skipped like a child around the tiny metal bowl, as if appraising the grain and picking those of the best quality. She smiled, then glanced back at the news, which was now broadcasting the weather. A much younger man stood outside in a black t-shirt. Wire rim shades hid his eyes.

Kim-Whatshisface. She couldn't be bothered to read the rest of the _Hangul_ script.

What is it with these men and glasses?

But at least this one's not half bad...

'Calm down. You're attached, remember?' She chided herself for window shopping.

Though, when one received one phone call every two weeks, it was sometimes easy to forget. She looked down at her bowl of Cheerios, as if they were somehow responsible for her communication barrier.

Just now she realized that in the entire three minutes Mr. Twenty-something had been relaying the day's conditions, she had not heard a word of it.

"Great," She muttered, setting down her half-eaten cereal and walking over to the screen door. She slid it just enough to stick her head and arm outside.

"Sunny," She declared, sneezing. "With a chance of allergies." Sniffling, she closed the door and picked up her bowl, eating the rest and then depositing it in the sink.

Her loft was particularly empty, she decided as she pulled a pair of scrubs and a white lycra shirt.

Of course, living alone made for an empty home occasionally.

The apartment itself was almost entirely open, minus the guestroom and bathroom down the hall.

Vivian didn't mind open space.

It left her enough room to walk about freely in her skivvies.

Others didn't share that level of comfort. Hence, a paper paneled screen covered the doorway to the guestroom.

It was a fair size living space. The apartment was masked from view from the front door by walls on three sides, leaving about half a metre's space on the right side to get through. As one entered it, the kitchen cabinets dominated most of the right wall, leaving enough room in front of the screen door for a fridge and various pictures along the wall of her sisters and brothers, one of her parents, and of their house in Korea. An island took up some of the hardwood floor space. Some stools surrounded it, but they rarely saw use as Vivian usually ate over the sink.

Isn't that what everyone did nowadays anyhow?

A Japanese style table sat in front of the screen door, two cushions on either side. To the left of that was her coffee table, surrounded on three sides by black leather couch sectionals. Her wall TV hung above a bookcase in front of the polished cherry table. A stereo and CD tower made their home beside a grand piano in the upper left corner of the room. If one went directly south of the piano, they'd find a tiny hallway just off the middle of the room; home to the bathroom, the guestroom at the end of the hall, and in the corner adjacent to the instrument was Vivian's own bed.

Realizing that her hair was soaking the back of her shirt, Vivian shuffled into the bathroom and picked up a brush. She braided it quickly, made quick work of her teeth, and walked back to the island. Keys in one hand, a black helmet in the other, she moved towards the door, pausing to get a pair of ankle socks from the washing machine behind the exit. She set the helmet and keys down, swiftly putting on each sock and then encasing the feet in runners. The door closed behind her with a tiny click.

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'There's my baby,' Vivian thought as the elevator doors opened a minute later. She smirked, as the idea of her beloved Ducati being called a baby was indeed very laughable.

It's size was not.

Unless one was laughing nervously.

The ebony machine sat inside a chain-link cage, not too far from the elevator. Vivian stepped out into the parkade and fished in her pocket for her keys. The padlock was a little sticky, but the shackle released with a little bit of work, allowing the door to swing open. The intern walked inside and pushed her bike out. She relocked the cage and turned, taking a moment to run her hand along the leather seat.

There was a seat just behind it as well, made for a second rider.

Maybe someone would sit in that one too, _if_ he ever bothered to call...

Already feeling adrenaline trickling into her system, Vivian set the helmet on her head and clicked the visor down. Her keys found themselves back in her pocket. With all of her weight she jumped on the kick-start and the machine responded heartily, roaring to life. The Korean smiled and swung her leg over, gripped the handles, and took off.

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The nice thing about a 7:30 start, Vivian decided as she dismounted, was that at such an early hour one could usually beat the traffic. Toronto, despite being horrifically busy, was still somewhat quiet at the tranquil hour of 7 AM. Even the leadfeet were still relatively docile.

Either that, or the sight of a 5'3" Asian woman straddling 196 kilograms of motorcycle left them stunned enough to drive decently.

Vivian strolled up to the triage desk after retrieving her white coat from the staff locker room. She walked behind the structure, over towards the coffee maker. She had just finished pouring herself a cup ('Regular strength, twitching hands be damned.') when she was startled by a rather imposing sounding voice.

The Emperor had returned.

"Still riding that death cycle, Vivian?" The Korean restrained her tongue and whirled around.

"Good morning Dr. Copeland," She greeted cordially, pretending she hadn't heard his question.

"Likewise. You've just arrived I assume?" He asked in a stiff tone. Vivian tried not to stare at the full, steaming mug of coffee in his hand.

"Yes," She said, pulled from her caffeine daydream by a phone ringing in the distance. She looked up at the man, who was a fair bit taller.

"Right then. I've taken you off trauma for the day, you'll be dealing with the little cases as they come in, and of course, your British friend down the hall." As he spoke he handed her a clipboard filled with various names and ailments, which she looked at briefly and set down.

God, he was arrogant.

Vivian now realized why she never saw a stethoscope around his neck.

The damn thing was surely up his ass.

"Of course. Has anyone checked on her yet?" Vivian asked, feeling slightly guilty for thinking that way about her superior.

"Last night LaTavia hooked her up to an ECG right after you left. A couple hours ago the feed to the triage desk flat lined, but when she went back in with a crash cart the patient had just rolled over." He paused to sip from his coffee.

That sweet, sweet brown caffeinated goodness...

"She might be awake now, if she heard your death cycle." He added.

Vivian decided she no longer felt guilty about her guess as to where his stethoscope had gone. She forced herself to smile.

"I'll go see her right now then." Her response sounded very forced, but the emperor must not have noticed. He nodded and walked away. She sipped the coffee and immediately felt the caffeine recharge her and numb the harshness of her welcome wagon's words. Now feeling slightly better, she began walking carefully to exam room one.

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"Nope, still asleep," Vivian mumbled, opening the door soundlessly. She tiptoed inside, shutting it behind her. Ivy was turned away from her, the blanket just beyond the small of her quite-bare back. Vivian set her coffee down on top of the patient's food table and turned her attention to the heart monitor. It had been turned off and the electrodes removed. Two bags now hung from the IV stand, presumably to make the change times less frequent. A rustling sound brought Vivian back to the exam room. She looked at Ivy, who had rolled to face her, bleary-eyed.

"Good morning," Vivian said cheerfully. She reached for her coffee and took a sip. Ivy pulled herself up and stretched, not realizing that the electrodes on her chest were missing. Had she noticed that, she probably would've assumed they were removed, and had she assumed that, she would've probably figured that they came off much the way they went on: by loosening the gown.

And had she figured that, she would've noticed that the collar was significantly slackened.

Sure enough, the collar fell down as the Englishwoman's arms went up, although they shot down so fast one wouldn't think anything had happened aside from her rapidly reddening face.

"Good morning," She replied, holding the fabric to her chest. Though she often found herself liking her English rose complexion, this was one of those times she longed to be anything but pale. Thankfully, Dr. Myong didn't seem to notice. "What time is it?" Ivy asked, stretching out a crick in her neck.

"Quarter to eight. Are you hungry yet?" Vivian asked, patting herself down in search of a pen. "Damn, forgot it..." She muttered. A squelching noise cut through the momentary silence like a knife through butter. Vivian looked to the source of the noise, which appeared to be Ivy's stomach.

"Well that answers that. I'll find you something, and I'll try to make it appetizing as well." Vivian smiled at her patient, who had crossed her legs and covered her stomach with both hands. "You don't have to be embarrassed about being hungry," Vivian said, looking slightly concerned. Ivy studied her practitioner.

"Are you always this nice?" Ivy inquired, immediately regretting the tone of voice she used. Vivian's right eyebrow quirked.

"I wouldn't be a doctor if I didn't want to help people," She answered, going over to the Venetian blinds. She opened them, revealing a hallway and other beds in the open air. "And according to my brother niceness runs in my family." She turned herself around to look at Ivy. The woman's toes peeked out from under the heavily mussed-up blanket. "A little bird told me you roll around a lot when you sleep, hey?" Ivy's eyebrows lowered in confusion, then returned to their natural positions.

"A nurse came in early this morning with a strange device on wheels. She seemed to think something was wrong." Ivy spoke through chain yawns.

"This thing," Vivian said as she pointed to the monitor. "Tells me your heart rate. If the spiked line goes flat while it's attached to a patient, their heart's stopped beating." She pointed to the crash cart near the door. "That's what we use when we're trying to bring the patient back."

"Bring them back? From death?" Ivy asked, both eyebrows jumping. "That's impossible."

"Not as impossible as you think," Vivian countered, stretching out her shoulders. "I've done it a few times myself."

"How?" Ivy's eyes narrowed. What kind of world had that sword brought her into?

"Electric shock," Vivian answered simply.

"Electric shock?" Ivy cried. "That's..."

"A little bit shocking, yes." Vivian finished. "No pun intended," She added as an after-thought. Ivy smirked. "But that's what that machine's for. Those handheld devices are paddles, and we place them on the patient's chest to deliver the electricity."

"How much?" Ivy inquired, scrutinizing the machine.

"We can set the charge on the machine, for as much is, and as many times are needed to resuscitate the person. It's quite an neat little machine," Vivian remarked, eyeing the white device. "Anyways, you're hungry," She observed, hearing the older woman's stomach again. "And I don't have a case for about 45 minutes. What do you want?"

"You're... you're not serious."

"To tell you the truth, I didn't eat very much this morning. I'm still hungry," Vivian revealed, feeling her stomach agree. "So I'd be going out anyways to get something for me. So," Vivian paused for breath. "What do you feel like today?"

Here Ivy was silent. Though her stomach was quite set on eating, her mind was indecisive.

"Do you like... muffins?" Vivian filled in.

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Fifteen minutes later the door swung open to admit one Vivian Myong, possessing two brown paper bags and a rather hot cup of Earl Grey. Ivy admired how true the Korean doctor was to her word, but could also ascertain another possible motive behind returning.

She'd left her coffee there.

Nevertheless, there were two bags on her person, one in her right hand and the other between her teeth. The intern set the cup down on the portable food tray and laid the bags down beside it.

"I think... Yeah, this one's for you," Vivian identified the contents of one bag. She pushed it closer to Ivy. The Englishwoman lifted one corner carefully, as if it were a bomb. She opened the bag entirely and pulled out her breakfast, feeling slightly foolish. Her eyes widened.

"Where did you get this?" She asked incredulously. Right there in the palm of her hand was an English-style muffin.

"There's a place a couple blocks away. They've got quite an assortment of pastries and what-not," Vivian replied, spreading some raspberry cream cheese on her bagel. She took a small bite. "I figured that was my best bet for finding something you'd eat." She watched the grateful Englishwoman gently pull it apart with her fingers. Ivy pushed a small piece of the muffin into her mouth. She subconsciously sighed her gratitude.

"Good," Vivian responded. She sipped at her still-warm coffee, eyes wandering outside to an ambulance. A team hurriedly lowered a gurney to the ground. A patient covered in foil was rapidly wheeled towards the door.

Flicking her gaze to the right she captured another intern ('Edward from CCU?') inhaling a full lung of the crisp, fresh morning air.

Well, it was as fresh as the air could possibly get in Toronto.

Sirens took her back to the ambulance bay. Another vehicle charged into the enclosed space, rapidly unloading what looked like another burn victim before speeding off again loudly. Three ER doctors came into view, rushing to the cart for a report. The group departed the bay just as quickly as they arrived.

"You are lost in thought, Dr. Myong." Ivy observed, sipping her tea. Vivian came back to exam room one.

"Hmm? Oh," She fumbled, searching for an excuse. "It's nothing really." She looked at the Englishwoman. There was something... refined about her, Vivian decided, but couldn't quite put her finger on it.

It made itself apparent even in the way she sat. Her back was perfectly straight, her shoulders up but not so much as to thrust her chest forward; one hand was folded gently across her lap while the other curled delicately around the paper cup. She brought it to her lips and tipped it, parting her lips just enough to permit access before closing them again.

Her accent was unmistakably English - Vivian knew that from the get-go. But it was a different sort of accent somehow. It was softer, more delicate than the East London Cockney often heard on television, with a slightly higher sounding inflection on her vowels. She spoke in a manner unlike the English people Vivian was acquainted with, her word choices reflected a higher level of consideration. Obviously, this woman was one to think before she spoke. The pitches on her words flowed nicely together, creating a unique melody in free time.

'You're English,' Vivian thought, 'But you're _definitely_ a different breed.'

"So where do you get your hair done?" Vivian asked, breaking the silence. Ivy cocked an eyebrow.

"Hair done?" She inquired.

"You know, a stylist. Who does your hair?" Vivian clarified, using Ivy's response time to finish her coffee. She popped the last piece of bagel into her mouth.

"I knew a woman who would drop by when I called for her. I prefer it short, nothing terribly fancy." She said, putting a hand up to pull an unruly lock from her eyes.

"What does she charge for bleaching?" Vivian wiped her mouth on a napkin. Ivy's other eyebrow twitched.

"For what?"

"Bleaching."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"You know, stripping the colour from your hair," Vivian explained, a little bit shocked by her patient's reaction. 'She _does_ know what I'm talking about... doesn't she? She's got to know, no one's hair is that white on it's own.'

"I've never done that," Ivy said.

'Yeah right, not even 32 year olds have hair that white already. She's pulling my leg.'

'What is she going on about? What's bleach?'

'You're obviously doing _something_ though.'

"Are you sure?" Vivian prodded, breaking the momentary silence.

"Quite. I have no idea what you're talking about," Ivy insisted. She sipped her tea, finding comfort in it's warmth. Her eyes locked with the Korean's, never moving.

"... Alright. Just thought I'd ask." Vivian relented. 'She's embarrassed, that's got to be it.'

"Dr. Myong?"

"Yes?" She replied, sipping her drink.

"... What's bleach?"

It was a good thing Vivian had already swallowed, for if she hadn't the woman in front of her would smell like Irish Creme.

"W-what?" She spluttered wide-eyed, choking on a trickle in the back of her throat.

"Good morning Ms. Lakhani," Ivy greeted. Vivian turned in her chair.

"Oh, you can just call me Soneera. Good morning Dr. Myong, good morning Ivy." The Masala nurse said. Her hands were folded in front of her, a clipboard between the fingers. "This is for you to fill out for the patient record," She explained as she walked further into the room. She set the clipboard on Ivy's knees. "We need to do some routine checks and write those down there too. Dr. Myong?" Soneera asked, intending on letting the intern do the honours. But Vivian, it seemed, was once again away and pondering.

'She doesn't know what bleach is? I _know_ they have it in England...'

"Dr. Myong?" Soneera said again, slightly louder. The doctor was unmoved.

'She hasn't ever heard of a defibrillator either. Surely she's seen one, on TV even. There's something odd about her. It seems she can read me like a-'

"Vivian." She jumped at the calm, low tone of Ivy's voice. Her eyes locked on the woman.

"Hmm? Yes?" Vivian fought to recover, brushing her offensive bangs behind an ear.

"You're supposed to conduct a routine check," Ivy restated Soneera's instructions.

"Oh," Vivian replied quietly, head down. She prayed her face wasn't red. "Right." She stood up and removed her stethoscope from it's perch on her shoulders. She set her cup down and put the instrument on. "Ok, I'll start with the heart and respiratory. This may be a little cold," Vivian warned, positioning herself so that her front created a right angle with Ivy's left shoulder. She placed the end of the stethoscope just above Ivy's breast. "Breathe normally," The Korean requested. Ivy did so, filling her lungs and emptying them again three times in succession.

"Again," Vivian said, moving the instrument to Ivy's right side, then onto her back. "Good. Soneera, could you hand me a cuff please?" The nurse moved across the room silently and opened the cabinets until she found what she wanted. Wordlessly she placed the instrument in Vivian's outstretched hand. The doctor removed the device from Ivy's back, letting it fall against her shirt. She wrapped the navy blue pressure cuff around Ivy's toned bicep. Attached to the cuff was a thick metal wire and what looked like a sort of hand pump. Vivian squeezed it rapidly several times, until a noticeable but still comfortable pressure was exerted on her patient's arm.

"What does that do?" Ivy asked, her curiosity spiked.

"It allows me to check your blood pressures," Vivian explained, looking at first the tiny dial on the cuff, then at the clock. "125 systolic," The doctor reported. She squeezed the pump again, maintaining the pressure on Ivy's arm and repeated this process. "Ok. 84 diastolic." The Korean removed the device and put it on the eating table, beside her finished coffee. Soneera picked up the pen and clipboard. She jotted a few notes at the bottom of the paper. "Right. Let's move onto your temperature," Vivian walked over and perused another cabinet, finally removing a handheld device. It tapered at one end into a tiny but blunt point. With her other hand Vivian found two tiny paper thin caps for the tip. She slipped one of the caps on and walked back to Ivy's bedside. Ivy turned to look at the device, half curious and half apprehensive.

"This won't hurt," Vivian told her, sensing some discomfort. She gently turned her patient's head to allow the device to fit inside Ivy's ear. She pressed a button and the instrument emitted a tiny beep; soon afterward the LCD screen lit up with a number. Vivian walked to the other side of the bed and did this again. "Temp's normal too," She remarked, making Soneera's hand fly across the page for a second time.

"I can handle the rest of this," The nurse offered, gaining the attention of both of the other women. "Copeland's got a patient for you, and the police are going to come in soon for the kit and a victim statement." Ivy looked away.

"Alright," Vivian agreed, feeling strangely reluctant to do so. She chalked it up to not wishing her patient to be apprehensive and left it at that.

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The teenager stood against the wall rebelliously, across from the exam table. Physically she wasn't very tall, unless one counted her extravagantly piled hair, which as a mass of black ribbon and product, seemed to be an entity of it's own. Were it not for the copious amount of make-up and numerous eyebrow, nose and mouth rings, one may have thought she was in mourning: every article of clothing, including her tall boots, was jet black.

'God bless the Harajuku girls,' Vivian prayed sarcastically as she opened the door. According to the report from triage, this case was ugly.

Triage was known for gross understatements.

"Good morning, I'm Dr. Myong," Vivian greeted stiffly. The physician's mask had a rather tight, thick elastic band. A slight tweaking in the wrong direction would make it painfully snap. The nameless girl clicked her gum. Had it been earlier, Vivian's eyes may have interpreted

"So you're in for... an infection?" Vivian tried again, referring back to a chart in her hands. "Can I take a look?" The girl maintained her silence, but took off her jacket and lifted her shirt. She turned her back to the doctor.

Vivian didn't care for piercings herself. She was perfectly content with the single holes in her ears, but her open-mindedness also told her that on the right sort of person, a nose stud or eyebrow ring could look fairly good, maybe even add to their appearance. However:

A corset piercing, an _infected_ corset piercing, did not look good on _anyone_.

Vivian pulled on a new pair of latex gloves and gingerly pulled at the bow of the adornment. The teasing made red, horribly swollen skin around the metal holes become even more inflamed. A white substance secreted from the flesh.

'I really don't think that trauma case was worse than this,' Vivian decided. "Please lie down."

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Author's Notes: My apologies for the delay in publication! I worked on this chapter in bits and pieces, and computer problems on top of that impeded my progress.(See my explanation in reviews) But, chapter three is completely done and coming soon, shortly followed by chapter four. I'm starting to unfold some of the separate sub-plots within these next few chapters, which will be better explored as the story really kicks off. Reviews are not required, but quite appreciated, as it not only gives me feedback, it reassures me that more than one person took the time to open the link.

Good night!

hua-hua


	3. Hwangjeui Natmal

Hwangje-ui Natmal - Emperor's Edict

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"Christine!" The accented voice called from down the stairs. Though it was naturally soft, it's timbre made it capable of penetrating steel vaults as well, and such was the case here. "Christine!" It was joined by footsteps now, each one clearer than the last, and the rustling sound of fabric moving against the floor. The percussion was ended with the opening of a door. "Myong Ha Neul!" The teen in question rolled her eyes and drew them away from the computer.

"Yeah?" She said, trying as hard as possible to convey boredom in her tone. A finger wound it's way through a short black pigtail.

"Turn that music down Ha Neul," The older voice requested in it's native tongue. Christine rolled her eyes, but got up and turned down her stereo. She turned again, sighing, to face her mother.

"What do you need?" She asked.

"Does your chima jeogori need cleaning?" The older woman asked, switching back to English, since her daughter was using it.

"Why would it? I don't wear it..." The girl replied flippantly. Her mother paid no attention to her tone.

"Tomorrow is your brother's birthday, and I'm washing the hanbok tonight so we can wear them." The accent in the voice emphasized vowels and nullified some of the final consonants, but sounded quite normal to the teenage girl's ears. She licked her lips.

"Aw Mom, why do I have to wear it? It's just going to get dirty." Christine complained. Her mother ignored this.

"It won't get dirty if you act like a lady. Now, come wash the rice. We need to make dinner." The older woman turned, making her long Korean dress sway slightly. "Oh, Christine?"

"Yeah Mom?"

"Please, call me Omma," She requested, almost pleading. Christine rolled her eyes.

"Yes, _Omma_?" Her vocal chords dripped in feigned respect.

"Have you heard from your sister?" Her mother continued, either oblivious to or just not caring about her daughter's attitude.

"Vivian? No. I never hear from her Mom, you know how busy she is." Christine yawned and stretched, causing her navel to just peek above her jeans. "I'll call her after dinner, yeah?" Her mother nodded and swished out of the room. Satisfied, Christine turned her stereo back up and reseated herself at her machine.

:Are you there: The instant message window popped up.

:Yes: Christine rapidly keyed back. :My Mom was in here, sorry Leah.:

:No problem. What'd she say:

Christine chucked. :You won't believe what she's trying to make me wear...:

:Chima jeogori again:

:Yep. My brother's birthday is tomorrow. She wants us all to look pretty _and_ she wants me to call my sister. It's torture:

:Which one:

:Vivian.:

:Isn't she like a doctor or something: Leah asked.

:Yeah, why:

:My sister was saying something along those lines today. She picked me up during English and I skipped.:

:So that's where you were: Christine typed, exclaiming out loud as she did so. :Does your Mom know:

:I don't think so. If she did I would've probably heard about it by now.:

:Yeah... I don't even want to think about what my Mom would say. She'd probably chew me out for three whole days, _in Korean, with my Korean name_.:

:What's wrong with Myong Ha Neul: Leah asked.

:What's wrong with Hyeong Dae: Christine countered.

:Point taken. Just don't call me that again.:

:Deal.: Christine agreed.

:Oh by the way...: Leah started. :Did we have any homework in English:

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"The results are in then?" Vivian asked at the triage desk, her third cup of coffee in hand. Amazingly enough, she hadn't started twitching yet.

She figured that would coeme with her fourth cup. Soneera nodded in response to her question.

"Positive for fluids; we're not sure yet about diseases. The lab's still running those." She relayed.

"How soon can we get them?"

"Saturday at the earliest," Soneera replied. Vivian sighed. This would probably mean she'd have to come in on the weekend as well.

"Alright," She sighed again, rubbing her temple. The coffee wasn't working the way she wanted it to. "How'd she test for pregnancy?"

"There's a wait on that too," Soneera answered. "We won't have anything until the weekend. The lab's maxed out," Soneera explained, seeing the look of displeasure on Vivian's face. "But judging from what she told me, she's very close to what could potentially be her next menstrual cycle."

"Let's hope those IV lines weren't too late," Vivian told her, turning towards the exam rooms.

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"Good evening Dr. Myong ," Ivy's British accent cut through the air and gave her words an upper-crust sound. She sat up as Vivian approached the side of the bed and eased herself down into a chair. Though there was but one small light illuminating the room, the Englishwoman's baby blues sparkled. Her hands were folded upon her lap, left over right, and her head was tilted slightly left as if studying something. She was, all in all, a perfect ivory statue. Her platinum hair partially hid her face, like a metaphor for the woman herself.

"Good evening to you too," The doctor returned. "Pleasant day?" She asked, trying to sound more cheerful than she felt. She had never, and probably never would feel comfortable before delivering bad news.

"Aside from the commotion early this morning, it was quite quiet in here. I spoke with the nurses as they came and went, and the rest of the time..." Ivy trailed off, thinking. "I suppose I spent the rest of my time thinking." She looked down at her hands. "What did you do?" She asked after a moment.

"Not very much either. My boss has removed me from the really serious cases so I could spend more time with you. When I wasn't in here I dealt with little cases that came in through the day. And, like you... I guess I thought a lot too." Vivian looked out the window. Another ambulance was pulling in, with patients that Vivian wouldn't treat.

"Like you are right now." Ivy said directly. Vivian's head snapped back to centre.

"W-what?" She blurted out, not sure if she heard correctly.

"Well, from the way you're sitting, and your inability to maintain eye contact," Ivy said pointedly. Vivian refocused on the speaker. "I would assume something is occupying you."

"W-what do you mean?" Vivian asked nervously. 'She's starting to worry me.'

"From the way you walked in and the tone of your voice it became quite obvious. You're contemplating something deeply, or you have received bad news." Ivy spoke fluidly, as if she were a detective. "Which is it?" She leaned forward.

'Here comes the hardest part,' Vivian thought, sighing.

"You're right," She said finally, searching for a better way to convey her message but finding none. "I received some of the test results from the assault kit today." She stopped there to watch her patient carefully, as if waiting for side effects after administering a drug.

Much to Vivian's chagrin, Ivy quieted substantially. She stared blankly ahead for a moment, then found herself again.

"What have you found out?" She asked, a little too calmly for Vivian's liking. The intern's mouth suddenly filled with words.

"You tested positive for fluids," Vivian replied quickly, not wanting to pour very much emotion into her words. Emotion got in the way when it came to this part of the job. Compassion however was perfectly acceptable and the Korean chose to convey it now.

"So I was raped," Ivy said in a tone more casual than was comfortable for her physician. Vivian knew her patient was a smart (perhaps crazy, but smart) woman, perfectly capable of putting two and two together, but her utter tranquility through it all... Either she had come to terms with it, which would make Vivian feel better, or she was emotionally torn to pieces, which turned Vivian's stomach. Unable to say anything, the Korean merely nodded. Ivy waited a long time before she spoke again.

"... Have I conceived?" She asked almost inaudibly. As if by instinct her right hand laid itself on her abdomen. A child would end all hope of finding out, by any means, how she came to be over 500 years beyond her time. She couldn't exist here, in such an advanced century and take proper care of a baby at the same time. 'Please don't say yes,' She wished silently.

"We don't know yet," Vivian replied softly. She reached over and took Ivy's free hand, squeezing it gently. Ivy looked at her, and saw something different this time.

The younger woman's face was somewhat round, a soft colour that could barely be called cream. A hint of cheekbone on either side gave her face some structure, creating a slight concavity that melted into the fuller shape of the cheeks. As Ivy would expect from a younger person, the intern's skin was flawless.

The bridge of Vivian's nose barely came into existence until below her eye level, where it protruded slightly, descended into a small curve and went out to the sides ever so slightly, to make room for tiny nostrils. The Korean's lips were perfectly formed, thin enough so as to be proportionate yet full enough to be significant and eye-catching. They were a mix of light rouge and pink salmon, a few shades darker than the rest of her. Her eyebrows were thin and perfectly sculpted; thicker towards the centre, tapering towards the ears, but the things which captured Ivy's attention and held it were located just beneath them.

Her eyes were a pair of softly rounded almonds, beautifully done, accented with thick, medium-length eyelashes and perfect double eyelids. Though the centres were a polar opposite of Ivy's, they were still full of light. The irises were a dark but still warm brown, a few shades away from black. Though they were rather dark Ivy could still make out kaleidoscopic shapes and patterns within them, symmetrical yer asymmetrical and pleasingly erratic. The encased pupils were welcomingly dilated, most likely, Ivy surmised, due to the darkness of her temporary quarters. The one light on the other side of Ivy's bed was reflected in them, made to dance around the rods and cones of Vivian's orbs. Her eyes were a mosaic, made of the tiniest, most precious bits of stone, fret over until made perfect by the artist's careful, fastidious hands. It was only when these works of art blinked that Ivy broke her stare.

"We'll have more information by the weekend," Vivian muttered, looking away quickly. Though she was more often than not collected, she could've sworn her face was a cherry. 'What was she looking for?' The Korean wondered, but just as quickly brushed the moment aside. In a flash of insecurity she brought her other hand to her face and rubbed her eyes, then discreetly wiped her mouth for traces of food. With the other she maintained her grip on the Englishwoman's soft pale hand. That finished, she regained her composure further.

"As soon as I know anything, I'll tell you, alright?" She looked at Ivy again, who was now suddenly very interested in her feet.

Had it not been so dark, her doctor may have been able to see her blushing.

'Why did you stare?' A tiny little voice whispered in her ear.

"Alright," She managed, forcing herself to look at the Korean again. Vivian retracted her hand.

"I've got to go," She whispered back. With barely a sound she crossed and exited the room. Once the door had clicked shut she leaned against it and sighed.

"What the hell was that about?" Vivian thought aloud. Were her blood not as super-saturated with caffeine as it was, she may have been too out of it to realize that her patient was indeed staring at her, for over two minutes at least.

'More like five,' She mused, walking down the hallway towards the staff locker room. 'There wasn't anything on my face so... she was simply staring _at_ me?' Despite how she tried to rationalize it, she could deduce only three things from the situation:

One, years of coffee drinking had finally begun to pave the way to insanity;

Two, her patient did not, it seemed, have a grasp of reality from time to time, and

Three, _her patient was blatantly staring at her without rhyme or reason for a period of time generally considered impolite by today's modern society._

'She's a nice person, but she's definitely got some problems that I'm not fit to treat,' Vivian surmised, looking back at the day's events. 'Perhaps I should write her a referral, get her sent upstairs for a few days. If anyone can help her, they can.' In the mean time, Vivian would be polite and treat Ivy to the best of her abilities, and at the end of the week, wish her the best and see her out the door. 'And with any luck, avoid any more strange conversations.' She nodded to a passing intern and slipped inside the locker room door.

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'She knew I was bothered before I even said anything, she was calm throughout the whole thing, well, right up until she started staring,' Vivian replayed in her head as she parked in the tiny convenience store's parking lot.

Moshimoshi Foods wasn't a terribly big place - just about the size of any regular convenience store, and equipped with all the generic convenience store commodities. In fact, when passing by, one could very easily brand it as just another 24 hr. store and go on their merry way.

Well, maybe they could, were it not for the giant stone lions and red Asian banners displayed proudly outside the front doors.

As one walked in the cash register greeted them, at an angle and over to the right. Stands filled with magazines and tabloids acted as columns on either side of the counter. There were all the typical English prints, but several different Asian ones as well, in Chinese, Japanese and Korean. The wall behind the counter was filled with cigarettes and imported junk food from various parts of the Far East. Vivian took great pains to avoid looking at that wall while she paid for her groceries.

But damn, was she addicted to Pocky.

Inside the store was several aisles, containing all the convenience store basics; butter, eggs, fresh produce and the highly carcinogenic but oh-so-satisfying microwavable snacks, and specialty foods from all over Asia; a large selection of various drinks and frozen foods, both domestic and imported, were displayed in an entire wall of freezers in the far left. On the other back wall next to the slushie machines were stands of fresh fruit and vegetables, spanning from cherry tomatoes and baby carrots to bok choy and dragonfruit. Beside the stands were racks of videogames and DVDs, the latest hits from the other side of the world. In short, it had everything, with a bit of an Eastern twist.

Vivian often frequented the store to pick up her favorite foods, many of which were common in Korea, but rare in Eastern Canada. Though Chinatown was much closer to her workplace and therefore more convenient when groceries were needed for dinner, the Korean often found the produce in most of the stores of lesser quality and overpriced. Along with that, her friends worked at Moshimoshi and usually gave her discounts on her groceries.

Especially on Pocky...

"We've got to stop meeting like this, Vivian," A voice rang from the counter as Vivian entered the building. Vivian smirked, shifted her helmet into her other arm, then walked over and set it down on the counter in front a grinning Hyeong Kyung Hwa.

"Hey girlie, how are you?" Vivian asked her long-time friend.

Kyung Hwa and Vivian initially met six years ago, at a group for new Korean immigrants. She was coerced into attending by her mother, and thus the late teen found herself sandwiched between Mr. University Professor from Busan and Miss Uninterested Also Forced-Attendee from Jeolla. Turned out later that she was actually called Hyeong Kyung Hwa.

Vivian's friend, as one might expect, was rather like Vivian in some respects, but worlds apart in others.

Vivian enjoyed a refreshing walk through the park on a bright day. Kyung Hwa? Parks were nice, but best viewed from inside an air conditioned vehicle.

Vivian enjoyed Bizet. Kyung Hwa indulged in Bhangra.

Kyung Hwa was proudly single. Vivian seemed to be single, much to her displeasure.

Vivian forgave Kyung Hwa's tendency to "purify" her apartment before stepping inside.

Kyung Hwa let go of Vivian's predilection for wiping her mouth with napkins.

Hyeong Kyung Hwa was a tall, slim woman with purple dye dominating her naturally black hair. She was a few inches taller than Vivian, a year older as well, but just as friendly as the doctor, if not more so. Kyung Hwa worked at Moshimoshi part time, her other job being a columnist for the university newspaper.

"Not bad. You look just about dead though. Oi, Aya!" Kyung Hwa yelled to the back of the store. A rustling sound was heard, pulling Vivian's attention to an open doorway in the back corner. After a moment a black head peeked out from the side. "Dig through there and find me a Red Bull, yeah?" The young Japanese girl nodded and disappeared from view.

"Aw, thanks. How much do I owe you?" Vivian reached for her wallet. Kyung Hwa put up her hands.

"An explanation of why you're beat will suffice," The Korean replied, smiling. Vivian grinned.

"You know if you're boss knew about this, you'd be screwed?"

"And he knows if he tried to fire me, his adorable little daughter would raise hell. Speaking of her," Kyung Hwa pointed to Aya, who stepped up behind Vivian. "Thanks Aya."

"No problem. Hey Vivian," Aya said, her brown eyes sparkling. She set the drink down on the counter beside the young intern. Before anyone could say anything more the Yamato girl had skipped away.

"Do you often raid Mr. Mitarai's stock?" Vivian asked Kyung Hwa, intending it as a joke.

"Only for you. Now spill," Kyung Hwa commanded playfully, leaning on the counter.

"Well, I suppose it has to do with my boss," Vivian started.

"You mean Emperor Asshole III, the third to the throne of the Jerkwad Dynasty?" Kyung Hwa asked bitterly, making Vivian laugh. Brian Copeland's brother-in-law had held the head position a few years back, and his uncle before him.

Half of the ER was convinced his family had it rigged.

"That's him," Vivian replied after she stopped clutching her stomach. She began to breathe normally again and popped the tab on her energy drink.

"So what's he done now?" Kyung Hwa inquired while Vivian took a sip. She could see the caffeine in the drink instantly take effect on her friend. Content, she leaned back in a swivel chair and propped her feet up beside a small TV.

"Well I can't tell you everything," Vivian conceded. She stifled a yawn. "Doctor-patient confidentiality. But he's taken me off trauma cases for the entire _week_ so I can take care of this one patient who..." She struggled to find suitable words. Kyung Hwa urged her on. "Not all there, you know what I mean?" Vivian said finally.

"Damn right I do. Hey Aya!" Kyung Hwa yelled. The youngest of the Mitarai family appeared. "You wouldn't mind assembling a few groceries for Vivian would you? At least, that's what I assume she's here for," Kyung Hwa said, searching Vivian's face for affirmation.

"Oh, she doesn't have to do that," Vivian responded quickly, looking at her hands.

"It's nothing. Do you have a list?" Aya piped up, holding out a hand. Vivian reluctantly fished a piece of paper from her scrub pants and handed it to the girl.

"Thanks," Aya said, and skipped off to find the items. Vivian watched her go, then leaned over the counter to whisper something.

"How old is she now?" She inquired, barely loud enough for her friend to hear.

"Next month will be her nineteenth birthday," Kyung Hwa replied, her voice also hushed.

"She's gotten so big, I can't believe it," Vivian commented. "What are we going to do for her next month?"

"I'm working that out pretty quick. I'll send an email to you later with all the details," Kyung Hwa whispered. She rubbed her tired looking eyes. "So anyway, continue if you can," She urged.

"That's about all I can tell you. It's just so... frustrating," Vivian told her, waving her hands for emphasis. "He's taken me away from the really exciting stuff just for this. I don't see the point of this, I like the trauma stuff," She insisted. "I like the way I've set it up, on my own," She spoke half with her arms, half with her words. Her arms now tired, she set them down on the counter and curled one hand around her drink. "I don't think I'll trade what I have now for anything... Except maybe a trip back to Seoul," She looked wistfully at the glass doors.

"I think this is everything... oh, a box of Pocky," Aya thought out loud, stepping up to the cash register, a full basket in hand.

"Oh, you can just skip that last one," Vivian said nervously. "I've got to get off that stuff." Kyung Hwa smirked and rang everything up.

"Thanks Aya," She tossed at the girl as she about-faced, heading into the back room once again.

"She's so tall now," Vivian observed. Kyung Hwa smirked again.

"Let's remember, everyone you see is big in your eyes." Kyung Hwa stood up and patted the smaller woman on the head. She then held her hand out in front of her friend. Vivian fished in her wallet for her credit card and placed in Kyung Hwa's palm.

"Har har. At least I'm still taller than my sister," Vivian told her, being playfully defensive. "If Christine grows, I'm gonna freak." Kyung Hwa laughed.

"Heard from her recently?" She asked, changing the subject. Vivian shook her head.

"Nope, but tomorrow is my brother's birthday. I have to go, My Mother is probably going to make us dinner, which therefore means I'll be donning the chima jeogori again," Vivian ran a hand through her hair. "Which is, by the way, too big for me. The skirt drags a little bit." She yawned and lazily input her pin number. Kyung Hwa handed her the card. "Ah well, there's only a few times a year when I have to pull it out right?" Vivian asked rhetorically.

"You mean, you don't wear it _everyday_?" Kyung Hwa asked, pretending to be mortified. Vivian smirked.

"Don't tell my mother," She joked.

"Excuse me?" An uncertain voice came from the door. Both girls turned to see an older man just stepping through the doorway. "Um, do you speak English?" It was only after his question that Vivian realized that she not only had been conversing in her mother tongue, she had done so without hearing a difference from English.

'You know you're losing your culture when...' She chimed in her head, smiling inwardly.

"I've got to go anyways," Vivian said, this time in her second language. She picked up the two bags of groceries. "Thanks for this," She waved the now empty drink can before tossing it into a recycle bin.

"Anytime. I'll call you sometime this weekend," Kyung Hwa told her. Vivian smiled and waved goodbye. Taking a few moments to tie down the grocery bags under a tarp, she started up her bike and drove two blocks to her apartment.

-----------------------------------------------

'Maybe, by some sort of miracle,' Vivian hoped as she combed her closet. 'I've actually grown a little bit over the last few months.' She found what she was looking for and held it to her frame.

Nope.

Reality sucked.

The Korean dress was a two-piece garment, consisting of a short jacket and a long, flowing skirt.

Indeed, it was the 'long, flowing' part of the phrase that posed a problem.

The skirt was a few inches too long which made too much of it fall against the floor. Though the bottom of the skirt should touch the ground, it was not meant to pool, as it did whenever Vivian initially put it on. To compensate for this Vivian pulled the skirt a little higher than normal, above her chest until the top of the skirt nearly touched her armpits, but that tiny modification made the jacket just a teeny bit awkward. The jacket's length extended just a tad below her chest and would make the skirt's fabric bunch a little more than usual. Vivian would fix the hem on the skirt herself, her having some experience as a seamstress, but factoring in how infrequently she wore the dress, it probably would waste less time just to live with it in the long run.

Still, it was a very beautiful dress. The skirt was a blood-red hue with a gold thread pattern interwoven along the material. The result was a pure blood-red skirt in poor lighting, but if the sun shone on it at just the correct angle, the golden embroidery would reveal itself like black oil in an inkstone. The soft silk both gave and held firm, allowing for free movement without sacrificing the clean elegant lines trailing down to the floor.

The jacket was a soft mandarin orange colour with white plum blossoms sprayed in silk across the breast. The sleeves were slightly puffed looking, allowing the fabric to bunch into stiff cuffs at the wrists. The collar ties, when pulled into a bow hung gracefully and rested against the wearer's legs, a little beyond the knees. They too were a delicate orange colour, and secured the two halves simply yet beautifully. The two tints, rouge and peach, interwove beautifully both with each other and Vivian's unusually fair skin tone.

It was no wedding gown, but it was still stunning.

"It's going to have to do," Vivian told herself, partially for her own benefit. Before she could mentally remark any further the phone rang. She quickly but carefully hung the dress back up and dove onto the bed, one arm outstretched towards the phone cradle on the night table. 'Myong Dae Jung' showed up on the cordless' screen.

"Annyeong," She started, pressing the talk button.

"It's me," A feminine voice returned with attitude. Vivian didn't need to ask to know who it was.

"Excuse me for not being able to see across town. I thought it may have been Mom." Vivian's reply was the calm yin to her sister's initial yang. "Anyways, how are you?"

"Fine," Christine answered, also calming down. "You've got a dress to wear for Mike's birthday right?"

"If by dress you mean chima jeogori, then yes. What about you?"

"I don't want to wear it, do you think I'm going to have to?"

"I _know_ you're going to have to. It's only a few hours anyways," Vivian reasoned.

"It's a pain in the ass, that's what it is," Christine declared. "A giant pain in the f-"

"Ah, ah, ah," Her older sister cut her off. "Watch your mouth. Just wear the dress."

A frustrated sigh came over the line. "Do I have to?" Christine asked, a subtle whine in her voice.

"Do you know who you'll be answering to if you don't?"

"Mike?"

"Try again."

"Ugh, I honestly don't care Viv," Christine replied casually.

"What about Mom?"

"What's your point?" The teen asked, eyes narrowing.

"Well?"

"Shut up," Christine dismissed the question. "Oh, before I forget, does your chima jeogori need cleaning?"

"No, it's good. No idea how I'm going to get it over there though. Mom would faint if I wore it on my bike." 'And it'd probably cause an accident too...'

"Oh wait a sec..."Christine's voice faded away, replaced by the muffling of the receiver. "James is here. I'll see if he can give you a ride from work tomorrow," Christine's mouth worked almost too fast for Vivian's ears. The line was muffled again. A faint voice, barely audible, uttered a stream of something unintelligible. Vivian flopped back onto her bed while she waited to come out of limbo.

"Yeah ok," Her sister's voice came back clearly. "He'll pick you up after work. Bring the dress with you tomorrow and call him when you get off."

"Thanks," Vivian replied gratefully. "What would I do without you, dearest Christine?" She asked sweetly, the tiniest drop of teasing in her voice.

"Quiet, you. See you tomorrow, 'kay?"

"Heh, alright. See you then." Vivian took the phone away from her ear and prepared to press the off button when Christine began speaking again.

"Wait- Viv?" She called out.

"Yes?" The older of the two replied, replacing the handset by her ear.

"... Visit more often. I-I miss you, you know." Christine stammered, swallowing a little and feeling her face tingle. It was rather unlike her to admit to feelings openly.

Vivian stopped for a moment, temporarily and completely off-guard. She opened her lips but no sound came forth.

"Vivian?" Christine called warily? This brought her sister back to reality.

"Yeah... I will," She whispered her promise. A soft sigh came from the other end. "I'll come over more often for you, we can go out to lunch sometime too, ok?" She offered. Truthfully, she didn't know exactly _when_ she would be able to arrange such a meeting, but she did know that with enough ass kissing Copeland would eventually break.

"... I'd like that," Christine admitted shyly.

"Ok," Vivian returned happily. "I've got to go," She informed her sister reluctantly.

"Alright," Christine sighed. "Goodbye," She said quietly.

"Bye," Vivian said back. The line clicked dead.

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Christine put the handset back on it's cradle. Excited Korean chatter echoed into the hallway upstairs.

"Ha Neul! Dinner!" A voice called, that of her mother's. Her first instinct told her to close the door, but her conscience piped up and forced her from her bed and beyond the door. She stopped at the bathroom and quickly checked over her appearance. The pink streaking in her hair was starting to fade, revealing black roots, and her make-up was no longer fresh. She wet a face cloth and dabbed her eyes free of the mascara and eyeshadow. Her newly cleansed eyes sparkled.

'Without all of that, I actually sort of look like Vivian,' Christine thought as she rinsed out the cloth. 'Minus the pink,' She added, twirling a coloured lock.

"Time to re-dye," She observed. Hearing her mother call her name again, she quickly pressed a towel to her face, hung it up again and descended down the stairs. Something smelled strongly of chicken.

-----------------------------------------------

Morning came and went. Vivian hardly recognized the passage of time, partly because of lingering tiredness, partly because of anticipation, but mostly because of yet another strange encounter related to her newfound friend, Ivy.

"So what do you know now?" Brian Copeland more demanded than asked in his office. By some sort of strange, half-hearted gesture of semi-goodwill, he had invited the young Korean to eat lunch with him.

Surely this could be submitted as a case study in a religious seminar, for it truly was an unexplained miracle.

"... Perhaps you should read this," Vivian suggested with trepidation. She handed him Ivy's chart. She snuck a bite of her sandwich as his eyes danced over the page.

"Hmm," He uttered, taking a bite of his own sandwich. He held the chart at a comfortable distance from his eyes and began to read. His eyebrows shot up at first, then furrowed. Copeland looked to his intern. "She filled this out herself?" He asked. Vivian nodded.

"Interesting, isn't it?" She commented.

"That's one word for it," He tossed back as he resumed reading the information.

Apparently, according to the chart, Ivy's full title was 'Countess Isabella Valentine'.

A bit of a mouthful, but it gets even better.

"This gets even better," The Emperor observed, incredulous. "Age: 32, Height: 5'10", Address: Valentine Manor, London, British Empire. And oh, this one's my _favourite_... Birthday: December 10,..." He paused for effect. "...1559?" He showed Vivian the chart. "Am I reading this right?" He pointed with an index finger to Ivy's careful, calligraphic handwriting.

"Unfortunately," Vivian answered. She shrugged. "The only drugs we've been giving her are for virus protection and to prevent pregnancy. Her fluid levels normalized yesterday, so we took her off the saline." She took a sip of coffee.

Her fifth of the day, and considering her recent string of headache inducing meetings with the woman down the hall, not her last either.

"Maybe she's got a history," Vivian said thoughtfully.

"Not according to this," Copeland replied. He turned the chart back to face him. "No medical history whatsoever. No hospitalizations, surgeries, medications; Hell, I don't think she's skinned her knee." He said admonishingly. "It's just as well, she'd probably scar that fair skin of hers." He reclined in his chair, lunch eaten.

"Schizophrenia?" Vivian posed. "Undiagnosed, I mean."

"Possibly," Brian answered. He brought his mug to his lips. "I'll ask the nurses to watch her more closely." He flipped the page over. "Ah, test results... fluid positive... STIs?" He asked, looking at the intern.

"We're waiting for those," Vivian explained.

"And pregnancy?"

"That too; the lab's overworked right now according to Ms. Lakhani."

"I suppose she'll just have to come back in to find out the rest," The Emperor mused out loud.

"Hm?"

"Ms. Valentine, I mean. Or we could phone her," He suggested.

"Oh, um," Vivian coughed. "About that..." She motioned to her superior to read the first page.

"What?" He asked, leaning over his desk. Vivian motioned to the first page again. He flipped back to Ivy's information.

"What the-?" He exclaimed much louder than expected. "You've gotta be kidding me." Vivian leaned over the desk, allowing her to look at the space for 'Home phone number'.

This one was her own personal favourite.

"'What's a phone'? Is she joking?" Copeland asked, slightly exasperated. "Does she think this is funny?" Vivian couldn't help smirking.

"I wouldn't put it past her. Yesterday I asked her where she got her hair done and who bleached it; she looked at me like I'd grown a third arm." Vivian finished her sandwich. "Then she asked me what bleach was." Copeland's eyebrows shot up.

"I'm starting to think we should be sending her upstairs, not outside."

"Yeah, but on what grounds? From what we've seen she's no suicide risk, and there's not much else we could try to get an observation stay on," Vivian reminded him. "That's what this was."

"True, but I need that bed back Vivian," He in turn reminded her. "She can't stay past Friday. There's absolutely no way."

"Could we stick her on a unit?"

"On what grounds, remember?"

"Hmm," Vivian sighed. "Are hypothermia cases supposed to be this confusing?" Copeland grinned.

"Nope, in fact were it not for how severe it was, I probably would've released her on the same day."

"Forgive me if I sound presumptuous sir, but I've noticed you rarely release patients on the same day. They almost always stay one night," Vivian brought up. "Why?"

"Merely to make sure they're perfectly fine, that's my reason." He informed her. "Everything for a reason, Vivian," He instructed. "What's your reason?"

Vivian was silent for a long time. "I understand," She replied finally, even though she didn't. "What do you make of our patient?" She asked.

"She's unique, I'll give her that. Based on what she was wearing I might initially have branded her a sex trade worker. You disagree?" He saw Vivian's expression change.

"There's something about her that seems high-class," Vivian said, hearing her boss snort. "Talk with her, just once, and you'd be able to see it too. She's English-"

"They have whores in England," Copeland cut in. Vivian shook her head, decided not to insinuate something that may get her fired, and continued.

"She speaks too beautifully to be a common Englishperson. Try speaking with her and you'll hear it too, it's not your typical British accent. The inflections in her voice indicate something of higher-class in her upbringing to me. Disregarding what she was wearing, I think she may have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"She didn't have any identification whatsoever," Copeland told her.

"Could've been stolen," Vivian hypothesized. "It's possible. English tourist, wrong place at the wrong time, is beaten, raped, and robbed. If she doesn't have a wallet with her it was probably taken when she was attacked."

"So do you have an explanation for her choice of attire?"

"She's crazy?"

"Very funny."

"As to that I have no idea," Vivian conceded. "Perhaps she was at some sort of engagement, a party nearby."

"That's one hell of a party," Copeland commented, smirking. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps, as unlikely as it seems, she was indeed at an engagement in the city and for some reason stepped outside for a moment. A smoke or something."

"She doesn't, according to her." Vivian pointed to the chart. Copeland scanned it briefly.

"Hmm. Alright, a breath of fresh air then. She's assaulted somehow without anyone hearing or noticing on their way out," He said, skepticism written on his face.

"It was a back alley. Maybe she went out a service entrance," Vivian suggested. "That would explain why no one found her until almost 5 AM. The general public wouldn't see her."

"Perhaps," Copeland responded, drumming his fingers together. "But no prints were found."

"It snowed some more that morning," Vivian remembered. "And the perp could've easily bagged their feet." Brian sighed.

"Alright sleuth, you win. What have the police come up with?"

"They ran every name they had under registered sex offenders; the DNA didn't match a single one. This one's new, whoever they are. The police are looking into this further." Vivian relayed.

"Good. Does Ivy, or pardon me, the _Countess Valentine_ know about this?"

"Soneera told her this morning," Vivian recalled. Copeland nodded acknowledgment.

For a jerk, he was sure being a real softie.

"But all of that still doesn't give us any answers," Vivian said dejectedly. She sighed. "What are we going to do with her?" Copeland sat back in his chair for a moment, studying his intern.

"You don't have to worry about her anymore. I'm releasing her tomorrow around noon," He decided.

"Where's she going to go? She has no address in Toronto, or Canada for that matter, and I'm sure you won't be paying for a plane ticket," Vivian said. 'At least, not at your _own _expense...'

"I've got it worked out. And I'm giving you tomorrow afternoon off as well too, just as a token of appreciation for taking care of her. You deserve a little time to yourself before I increase your workload again," He explained.

"Thank you sir," Vivian replied, a little shocked. He never gave anyone a break. "So I'll be back on trauma on Monday?"

"Yes," He confirmed. "Be prepared to work hard," Copeland warned, his usual demeanor creeping out again for an instant.

"Yes sir," Vivian responded firmly.

She did, however, resist the urge to salute.

She did not, after all, wish to vomit on the nicely finished desk. Her head turned at the chiming of a clock.

"Better get back at it I suppose," Copeland suggested pointedly. Almost immediately Vivian rose, picking up the remnants of her lunch and Ivy's chart. She paced over to the door and was in the process of turning the handle when she heard her Emperor's voice again.

"I suppose everyone has someone who believes in them," He put forth, then said no more. Unsure of where to go with that, Vivian nodded to him and then left. She recycled the disposable plastic bags in her hand and walked briskly to the triage desk. She set Ivy's chart in a rack and picked up a new one, regarding a man brought in not too long ago. As she walked over to the curtained section of the ER, she couldn't help smiling.

Copeland was a god. An asshole, but a _god._

'She's out my hair, she's out of my hair, goodbye awkward staring because _she's out of my hair_!' Her mind screamed. The trauma rooms were hers again, Ivy would be... somewhere, Copeland would see to that she was well taken care of, Vivian knew that for certain. Vivian got brownie points on the Emperor's "Good" list, plus an afternoon off... She couldn't have planned this better if she tried.

Still, she couldn't help the nervous feelings that filled her when she thought of the Englishwoman in exam room one. There were just... too many strange things about her. Beautiful, but strange. Both parties knew that whenever they met it was simply awkward, as if they were bending over backwards to relate to one another.

And try as she might, Vivian couldn't erase the image of Ivy's eyes fixed on her own, examining her, seeing into her...

'Just one more day- no, half a day,' Vivian reminded herself. She smiled again, knowing that in a few short hours her brother would come, and he would be her invitation to put her job behind her for a few hours, to forget her problems there and focus on the family in front of her.

Besides, she'd heard Dr. Copeland.

He had it all worked out.

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Author's Note: Thank you to my reviewers, I appreciate the feedback.

A few translations for those not familiar with Korean:

Chima jeogori - A traditional Korean dress consisting of a short jacket and a long skirt. The two pieces are usually different, but blending colours. For a better description, try Wikipedia.

Omma - Korean word for Mother.

In case one missed the context, Myong Ha Neul is Christine's Korean name, and Hyeong Dae is Leah's.

About Ivy's Birthday:

My initial calculations were incorrect due to misinformation; the birthyear here is the correct one. Using simple math and a couple years I figured out what her birthyear would be, thanks to some information on a site called Project Soul. Unfortunately, it doesn't have an English counterpart, so I won't post the link here. It can however be found through a search engine for those of you who are interested in it and have a fair command of Japanese. The site is basically a Wikipedia for everything Soul Calibur.


	4. Olgami

Olgami - Trap

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Vivian stretched, deciding to get up early for a change. Her alarm would go off about 20 minutes later, but yesterday's news had removed a great weight from her shoulders, and although she got less sleep, she slept better. Smiling, she hopped out of bed and over to the kitchen for some fruit.

The party had been good. As promised Vivian wore the oversized hanbok and James had picked her up from work. The traditionally clad pair arrived at their parents' house a little bit early, and were warmly greeted by them. Vivian's parents were happy to see her again, and though Christine remained rather quiet through the evening, from time to time Vivian received speechless messages through her eyes that the youngest Myong was happy to see her older sister.

Their Mother had spent the day scouring the Koreatown district for fresh produce and ingredients for the family's favourite dishes, preparing a full Korean meal for the occasion. Two of Vivian's absolute favourites, _bulgogi_ and _tangsuyuk_, were displayed in abundance before her. For the first time in a long while, Vivian ate very well. To add to the effect the family dined on a low table, sitting on cushions in the living room. Were it not for the large fireplace and floor-to-ceiling windows in the background, an onlooker might think they were in Korea. Vivian's father picked up a Western addition for desert; an ice cream cake. The family sang to Mike, who grinned like a fox for James's camera while the cake was being cut.

"I don't know what to get a computer tech-in-training," Vivian admitted after she'd had a small piece of dessert. She spoke in Korean to appease her parents. "But I do know you were wanting something to keep you amused," She pushed a colourfully wrapped box in front of him. Mike carefully peeled away the paper to reveal a brand new mp3 player, no longer than his thumb according to the box. The packaging advertised a detachable red wrist strap and three sizes of foam cushions to better the fit on the earbuds. "And something for your stuff as well," Vivian produced another small package from behind her back, which turned out to be a pen drive with a lanyard.

"Sweet! Thanks," Mike exclaimed. "Uh," He backpedaled, seeing his parents sitting behind Vivian. "Um... _gamsa hamnida_." Vivian smiled back.

As the evening went on, everything went back to normal within the Myong house. James resumed mercilessly teasing his younger brother, Christine all but refused to speak her native language, and Vivian's mother had once again popped the age-old question to her daughter:

"When are you getting married, Ki Soo?"

Well Omma, that's a little difficult when your significant other never calls you...

Luckily Vivian's father came to the rescue.

"Give her time A Mi, she's still young. She'll get married soon."

...Sort of.

All in all, it had been a highly enjoyable affair, and exactly what she'd needed to relieve her tension. Afterwards, James drove Vivian back to the hospital so she could change and get herself home. Feeling tired, Vivian chose to leave the dress at work and collect it in the morning. She wanted to clean it relatively soon after wearing it, and with the unexpected afternoon off, she'd have more than enough time to do it.

Even the cruelest emperors had grace periods.

She decided to go in early too, just to bid her charge adieu before she left. Though Ivy would be leaving at noon according to Dr. Copeland, Vivian planned to get away just a tad earlier for a nice lunch somewhere. Perhaps on Parliament Hill, if the weather stayed nice through the morning. Mr. Twenty-something Kim forecasted sunny weather over the weekend.

'And thank God it's Friday too,' Vivian silently declared, revving up her bike.

-----------------------------------------------

"You're in a good mood this morning Dr. Myong," Dr. Copeland commented in his usual stiff manner as the intern partook of her first cup of coffee. She smiled.

"I think today will be a good day, wouldn't you say so?" She replied cheerily. "There's just... something about it, I suppose."

"And you're early," Her boss noticed.

"Woke up early," Vivian responded. "And I thought perhaps it would be a good thing to come it a little bit early if I was getting the afternoon off. Just to make sure I cross a few things off my 'To-do' list today before I go." She took a second sip of the drink. "I should get started on the discharge procedures," She remembered.

"Already done," Copeland told her. "I wrote up the final report half an hour ago, and signed it in your place since I supervised. You can see a few patients if you want, but other than that there's not much to do."

"Expecting a quiet day?" Vivian inquired.

"On a Friday with a full moon? Absolutely not. But, like you, I do have a good feeling about today," He picked up a chart, looked it over briefly, then set it down.

"I must admit sir," Vivian started, looking down. "Getting off a little early does help." Her boss chuckled.

"I can understand that," He replied. "Use the time well," He advised, then walked away. Vivian smiled at his back, choosing this time to heed his words.

'"What's your problem with this guy?"' She remembered Christine asking once.

'"He's rather egocentric. I don't take it too personally, but he treats me like I'm five every so often. I'm not the only person he rubs the wrong way either,"' She had answered, and left the matter there.

The wide glass doors opened to admit two patients and a gust of warm air. Vivian let the zephyr wash over her, taking this as a good sign. Two nurses began assisting the newly arrived couple and hurried them over to triage for a full report. Vivian took advantage of the moment to glance around her surroundings.

Soneera was tucked in behind the front desk, talking on the phone in what Vivian presumed to be her mother tongue. The rows of chairs by the front door, like an airport terminal were relatively full already, some of the occupants sleeping, some trying to fall asleep, and others just sitting down and preparing for what could turn out to be a long wait. By the time Vivian left a fair number of the bodies would probably be attended to and perhaps even on their way out into the rest of the world.

'This is _my_ world,' Vivian thought. 'I live in my world and they live in theirs. Occasionally our two worlds meet briefly, but never for very long, and I never do see them again.'

The computers behind the desk were idle except for one at which Copeland was entering some patient data. Vivian watched him replace a file on the rack beside him and fetch another. Patients in, patients out.

'Am I jaded already?' She had to ask herself. Yes, she was dealing with many people every day, all of them complete strangers. They came and went. She never saw any of them again, and from the unconscious ones never received a thank-you after shocking them back to existence. 'Occupational hazard.' She branded it. 'It just happens.' Wasn't it advantageous to be like that anyways?

'I chose to live this life. I knew what it would be like before I got here. Get over it,' She told herself, jumping in front of an idle computer terminal. She jiggled the mouse, bringing the flat panel display to life.

'Let's see if I've got anything,' She mused as she pulled up her inbox. A lack of a computer, or rather lack of space for a computer prevented her from receiving messages outside of her workplace. It was just as well, she didn't get very much email anyways, unless it was from...

'Hmm, finally!' She clicked on the message beside the name 'Kang Yongseung'. A moment later a pop-up appeared, displaying his message.

_Hey Baby, _It read,

_I'm sorry I haven't called you in a while, I know you hate being left in the dark about anything. It's been very hectic at work recently and I simply haven't had any time -_

'Imagine that, a guy who makes a living selling cell phones doesn't have time to use his own.'

-_to myself to do very much of anything. It's a wonder I have the time to eat properly! Speaking of which... How does dinner on Monday sound? _

'That's more like it.'

_I'll call you this weekend and we can discuss where, but I was thinking perhaps maybe Nikos' ..._

Vivian blushed slightly, the restaurant being their first actual date. Yongseung had been slightly nervous, as had his date, but after an entree or two the couple had relaxed and started talking.

And the spanakopita was to _die_ for.

... Was this a sign?

_I know how much you liked the food, especially their spanakopita, and I was looking for just the right place to discuss a few things with you. _

'This does sound promising,' Vivian thought, letting her eyes linger on the latter half of the sentence.

_I need to talk to you soon; I don't think I can go much longer without seeing you, or kissing you, or tou-_

"Say Vivian?" Dr. Copeland called to her from two machines away.

"Hmm? Yes?" The Korean responded, face warm and rather flustered. It was times like these that Vivian wished she had the money to spare for a laptop. 'It's one of _those_ messages again.'

"What were your plans for this afternoon?" He inquired, either oblivious to or not caring about the slightly nervous intern's reddened cheeks.

"Nothing too important, why?"

"Just curious as to how desperate you were to get out of here, that's all. If you'd said you were off to New York with a flight at six, that would tell me something," He explained. "But carry on with whatever it was that you were doing," He muttered, turning back to his screen. Vivian was thankful for that, or he might have seen her blush again.

'I think I best skip that,' She decided, skimming the message until she found her place again. 'Here we go.'

_I can't wait to see you. Talk to you later sweetie._

_Love you!_

_YS_

Vivian smiled to herself, a warm feeling overtaking her body.

Ok, his communication skills were a little off, but when he did make contact he was sweet about it.

Vivian stretched, bringing her arms above her head and down again. Yongseung's email was the only one of the day so far, and the only one she'd see before Monday.

_Yongseung's email_.

'What a guy,' Vivian thought, sipping her coffee. 'He is really sweet sometimes though. _Really _ sweet.' She rose and pushed in the chair. 'What did he want to talk to me about?' She wondered, hypothesizing that he probably intended to keep her in the dark until Monday evening.

'It's gotta be important though,' She figured. 'If he wanted to go to the same restaurant as our first date.'

"Oh Yongseung," She sighed softly. "Sometimes I don't like to be surprised." To take her mind off of him, she looked at the clock. 'Could it possibly be 8 already?' Vivian made a firm resolve. She shuffled out from behind the triage desk, mug in hand, and strode down the left-hand hallway until she found the door she wanted. The nameplate boldly proclaimed 'TGH.ER.01.001'.

-----------------------------------------------

'This is it,' She told herself, raising a hand to the door. She knocked politely first, then let her hand fall to the doorknob and twisted it. Softly and gently she opened the door.

"Well this is going to put a damper on things," Vivian said to herself. The room was empty.

"She won't have left yet, not until noon. She just stepped out for a walk," Vivian reasoned. Ivy's chart was still on the door rack, offering evidence to the Korean's theory. The IV line had now been removed and the tubes and bags disposed of, leaving only the naked infusion pump beside the bed. The ECG machine was missing from the room, most likely being put to use in the trauma rooms. The bed sheets were yet to be changed; they were in a heap near the foot of the bed. Aside from the rumpled bedclothes, the signs of life within the room were gone, the vicinity sterilized of warmth, feeling, emotion. Deciding to wait, Vivian seated herself in an armchair by the left window. Her fingers went to work drumming on the armrests.

'Just a few minutes,' She told herself, looking at the clock above the door. 'She won't have gone far. Just a little bit longer, surely. ...Wait a sec, why-' Her question was interrupted by the click of the door. It admitted one Ivy Valentine, dressed in a gown and robe. The garments appeared fresh, and her platinum hair was weighed down with water.

"Oh, good morning Dr. Myong," She said, slightly surprised, and a little embarrassed about the way she looked.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Quite," Ivy replied, closing the door behind her. She walked softly over to the bed and sat down facing her physician. "It's rather refreshing to have a few good nights of rest." She began combing her hair with her fingers.

"Is your hair naturally curly?" Vivian asked, watching the Englishwoman's hands work. 'They're nice hands too. ...Just nice, that's all.'

"No, it's straight and fine, I couldn't do very much with it even if I wanted to," Ivy replied as she worked. She tilted her head as if to untangle the knots faster.

'She could be a hand model if she was interested in that,' Vivian thought. She looked away quickly when Ivy's gaze met hers. 'I'm not falling for that one again.' They were silent for a time.

"I bet it feels better to get cleaned up, and have your line removed," Vivian pointed to Ivy's bandaged hand. The Englishwoman nodded. "Has someone seen to your belongings yet?" The intern inquired.

"I believe so," Ivy answered. "One of the nurses is attempting to get my clothing back. It was confiscated by the police for evidence." Giving up on her hair, Ivy folded her hands upon her lap. "Aside from that I think everything's settled." Vivian shifted in her seat.

'The police won't want to give it back,' Vivian realized. 'They probably still need it.'

"I'll see if I can get the process sped up," Vivian offered. She stood up and looked out of the window. 'Maybe she won't keep looking at me if I turn my ba-'

"You are lost in thought again, Dr. Myong." Ivy observed for the second time.

'...Crap.' Vivian turned to the side, to give the impression of paying attention without having to look at her patient. "No, not really," She lied, smiling. Ivy quirked an eyebrow.

"Hmm." The Englishwoman hummed. "I may be mistaken, but I would be inclined to say you are contemplating life."

Vivian turned around fully.

"How did you know?" 'I swear, if she does that one more time...'

"I make the same face," Ivy said. Were Vivian's eyesight less than 20/20, she might've missed the slightest upturning of the corners of Ivy's full lips. It was barely there to begin with and the intern fought to see it, without giving the impression of staring.

'That's really sweet, but I wasn't intending on pouring my heart out to a woman I've known for three days.' This comment poised itself on Vivian's lips, but she forced it back. "It's nothing, really," She insisted softly. She sighed. "Besides, don't we all do that once in a while?"

Ivy's expression became very dark. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly and the same full lips that not too long ago gave the doctor a private smile pursed into a frown. "Yes," She said in a far away tone, pupils slightly dilated. "Yes we do." She blinked and the expression faded into nothing. Her eyes turned to a confused and worried Korean.

'What the hell was that?' She wondered, realizing that the Englishwoman was looking at her. She blinked to clear the thought. 'I think it's time for a change of subject.'

"So what are your plans now?" She asked. Ivy's face remained neutral.

"I'm not too sure right now," She replied, looking at her hands.

"Oh before I forget," Vivian said, snapping her fingers. "We'd like you to come back in on Saturday for your other test results. We wanted you to find out before you left, and normally you would have," Vivian's voice trailed off as the Korean got up and paced about the room. "But for some reason this week the labs are very busy, and they've been understaffed the last couple of days as well." Vivian had found that out yesterday before she left, but hadn't had time to rush in and offer an explanation to her patient.

She had a billowy, semi-uncomfortable dress to put on. Vivian licked her lips, slightly calmer now that she was able to focus on walking around instead of directly at the woman in front of her.

'I didn't want you to finish that sentence,' She silently confessed, 'Because you both intrigue me and scare me. And I don't need another reason to feel guilty about that.'

"Just give them your name at the front desk and they'll take care of you." Vivian finished quickly, realizing she'd left Ivy hanging. Ivy nodded, then stretched out her neck. But as she did so, she didn't factor in three days of bed rest with very little movement. As she rotated her head around her shoulders a muscle to the right of her neck protested the movement, throwing itself into spasms. Ivy's hand flew to the sore spot, prodding it gently. She grunted and her eyebrows furrowed as she rubbed the offending muscle.

"Um," Vivian uttered, not realizing it. Ivy's head turned.

Before medical school was a spark in her mind, Vivian had been quite interested in massage therapy. As a little girl she would work out the knots in her sibling's backs while they studied; she rubbed her father's shoulders as he prepared his opening arguments or read a client's affidavit, she even worked on her mother's feet before bed. She'd made this a habit since she was in primary school, and so once her aptitude for massage made itself known, she tried to learn more.

When she was old enough to read most Korean books she purchased several books on technique and studied them front-to-back. She learned about traditional Asian massage techniques such as Zhi Ya and Shiatsu, and even briefly looked at modern European techniques from France and Sweden. She familiarized herself with aspects of traditional Korean medicine, including the reading of a book dated from the 16th century. She also delved briefly into traditional Chinese aspects, such as the locations of pressure points and how to maintain constant qi flow. All of this gave her a fairly stable background at an early age.

Soon after high school she applied for courses in massage therapy, to help refine her learned techniques further. At the end of this endeavor she was a certified masseuse in an international association, equipped with a background that would make holistic care workers jealous, and on top of that was rather proficient in Chen Taichi. So as she watched Ivy wrench her back muscle all of this came to mind, and made her open her mouth.

Which she just now realized was still open.

Ivy stared at the open-mouthed intern for a moment, eyes narrowed from the pain in her shoulder.

'Sometimes, this woman is a little odd,' Ivy thought. 'But certainly pretty.' She looked away quickly, remembering how looking had got her into trouble. 'Come to think of it... I still don't even know why I was staring in the first place...'

"Um," Vivian articulated again. 'You're a doctor. Grow up.' Instantly she hardened. "I can help you with that."She offered. Slowly she walked over to Ivy's bed, standing in front of the Englishwoman. After receiving a nod of permission, the intern gently seated herself behind her patient. For a moment she couldn't help but stare at the older woman's back.

'Hmm?' Ivy coughed. "W-what are you doing?" She asked, not entirely comfortable with being unable to see the doctor. 'Good lord, Ivy. She's a bloody doctor, and she doesn't look like a quack.' She chided herself.

Vivian gulped at the sound of Ivy's nervousness. It certainly wasn't helping her own apprehension, which had formed itself into a mantra.

'Whatareyoudoing-whatareyoudoing-whatonearthdoyouthinkyou'redoing? Hmm. What _are_ you doing, Viv?' She inquired, knowing that the answer she sought wouldn't come. 'Suck it up girl. You're a Korean.' Somehow through this internal crossfire the intern was able to speak.

"I'm going to massage the muscle for you, to see if I can correct the problem," She replied, slipping the physician's mask over her head again.

And this time, it wasn't coming off.

Ivy nodded her consent, which somehow helped her doctor to relax further into her role.

"Where does it hurt?" She asked professionally. She didn't catch Ivy's mumbled answer, but the Englishwoman pointed to her shoulder blade. Vivian slowly laid her hands upon the sore spot and began feeling it, making mental landmarks as she moved over the upper right corner of Ivy's back. Finally her hands shifted to the hurt muscle.

"Right here?" She asked for verification. Though her method was to attack the problem head on, some patients preferred a gentler approach around the pulled muscles initially.

"Y-yeah," Ivy responded shakily. "That's good." Reassured, Vivian's hands gently began to work. She teased at the corners of the muscle gently for a few minutes, but soon stopped. She stammered, unsure of exactly how to word her request.

"I... uh..." 'I'm a physician, why can't I spit it out?'

'Hmm, maybe because there's no way to sugarcoat it?' A little sarcastic voice said. Vivian pushed it away. Slowly she took her hands off of Ivy's back. 'Here goes nothing.'

"I can't really... get down into the muscle because of... the uh, ... robe." 'Oh, great Vivian, _that_ made you sound _perfectly_ normal.' She kicked herself. 'Oh, but I'm not done yet.'

"Would you mind," Vivian swallowed. "Taking it off?" Wordlessly Ivy let her shoulders drop, causing the robe to do the same. She straightened her back, sitting in the ladylike pose Vivian so often found her in.

"That's better." Vivian resumed her ministrations on Ivy's now-bare back. The skin beneath her palms heated quickly and molded to the folds and concavities of Vivian's hands. The pale flesh was still moist from the shower, and as if on cue a water droplet fell from a strand of hair and traveled down Ivy's back. Under Vivian's technique the muscles and skin relaxed and gave, and Ivy's entire body mimicked the action. The Englishwoman sighed without realizing it.

'Cripes, it's not _that_ good,' Vivian remarked internally, becoming a little bit tense. Ivy's reaction had been most unexpected. Her hands kept working at a comfortable clip however, so as not to indicate Vivian's slight discomfort. She pushed against the muscle gently at first, then increased the pressure on the area. The Korean's hands switched to auto-pilot while she began to diagnose the problem.

Ivy smiled to herself, enjoying the sensation in her shoulder. 'She really knows what she's doing... Oh, over there... Yes, that's _perfect_.'

Vivian's hands continued to slowly manipulate the stressed muscle, forcing it to submit to her silent yet strong will. As she worked she discovered that the pulled muscle was merely a small part of a network of tensed muscles. With each movement the muscles became more and more tangled, stretching each other and further aggravating the entire web. The slightest turn would tweak one and create a ripple effect across the Englishwoman's right shoulder and nearly all the way down her back, continuing to pinch and block the energy flow to the area.

'No wonder she pulled it,' Vivian thought, digging into the muscle. 'I'm surprised she didn't already.'

"What kind of things do you do to get your back in such a state?" Vivian asked. 'She's certainly doing more than your typical English noblewoman.'

"I travel quite frequently," Ivy replied, ending her statement with a soft sigh. As the intern worked wonders the Englishwoman could feel her body rocking ever so slightly.

"What kind of traveling," Vivian grunted, utilizing her elbow to work out a knot, "Produces these kinds of knots?" She finished with her elbow, satisfied that the knotted muscle has been worked free. Ivy relaxed further. Ivy chose to be silent, well relatively silent, as every so often a sigh escaped her parted lips.

"Did you learn to do that?" Ivy inquired softly.

"I started learning when I was young. I'm a certified massage therapist, so I use it along with my other medical training to treat people," The intern explained. She dug with her fingertips into the hollows of Ivy's ribcage. The patient twitched. "Sorry," Vivian apologized stiffly, removing her hands from the ribcage and relocating them at the base of the neck. 'I see she's one of those twitchy types. Either that or easily aroused.'

Ivy's flesh was putty beneath the Korean's hands. By this time her eyes were rolled back and nearly closed, her bottom lip hung limply, and every muscle on her frame had melted away. The doctor's fingertips were lightly tapping all along her back, as if she were playing a piano. The softest trail of touching brushed her neck, causing the older woman to shiver.

"Cold?" Vivian asked, removing her hands. Ivy opened her eyes, taking a moment or so to refocus.

"No," She breathed, feeling her heartbeat slowly return to normal.

"I see. Well, I'm nearly done the superficial stuff." Vivian informed Ivy, cracking her knuckles as she spoke. "Would you like me to try a deep tissue technique?" She pushed her bangs back from her face.

"Um, no thank you actually," Ivy replied, stretching again. "It feels alright for now." She swiftly hopped up off the bed, landing away from it. "Thank you," She added graciously.

"You're welcome," Vivian replied, not quite sure why the Englishwoman was so eager to get away. 'Whatever,' The intern decided, and looked at the clock. 'Hmm, 8:30. The day's flying by.' She felt the bed move, and turned her head to look at Ivy.

"This feels much better," Ivy commented, rubbing her shoulders a little. Vivian smiled.

"Glad to hear it. Oh, how long has it been since someone went to go look for your stuff?" She asked.

"About 45 minutes, I would estimate," Ivy guessed.

"I'll try to speed that up for you."

"Thank you," Ivy answered, a little surprised. Vivian smiled again, then pushed herself off of the bed. She stood above her patient and held out her hand.

"If I don't see you before you leave, I'd just like to say you were a very good patient, and I wish the best of luck to you," Vivian said. Ivy took her hand and shook it firmly.

"Thank you Dr. Myong," She replied. "And the best of luck to you too." Vivian released the Englishwoman's hand. She walked over to the door.

"Bye," She bid softly, giving a small wave. Ivy returned it, gave another small smile, and watched the physician leave the room. The door closed behind her with a click.

-----------------------------------------------

'Thank god that's over with,' Vivian breathed a small sigh of relief. She walked over towards the triage desk and leaned over it.

"The discharge patient in exam one would like some clothing, preferably hers," Vivian relayed to a nurse. The younger woman nodded and slipped away.

Vivian sat back in a swivel chair and stretched. As if sensing a caregiver at rest, Copeland showed up behind her with two charts.

"I trust you've bid your British friend au revoir," He said. Vivian turned around.

"Yes, just finished actually," She confirmed, running a hand over her head.

"I hope you weren't just getting comfortable," He said, handing her the charts.

That man must have radar.

He could probably sense slacking off within a 40 kilometre radius.

"And these are for whom?" Vivian asked, reading them briefly.

"A thirty-something with a broken ankle and a kid who swallowed a nickel."

"Hmm."

"Ought to be fun, don't you think?" Copeland suggested. In truth Vivian thought otherwise, but her boss didn't need to know that.

He just might revoke her afternoon off.

-----------------------------------------------

Vivian unseated herself and walked over towards the curtains. Sure enough, a somewhat worried looking mother and a young boy were waiting for her.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Myong," Vivian introduced herself. She held out her hand and let the boy shake it, then turned to his mother and let her do the same. The concept of handshaking had been an odd one for the newly-landed immigrant to become accustomed to, but now it was almost as natural as bowing.

Almost.

Vivian had noticed before today her torso moving forward slightly as she shook.

"Now what's your name?" She asked in a higher-pitched voice.

"Jason," The little boy replied in the soprano voice of a child. Vivian smiled and turned to his slightly frazzled looking mother.

"Here, perhaps you should sit down," The Korean suggested, pulling up a chair. The pensive woman took a seat.

"Oh God I feel so terrible," She intimated, her hands clenched into fists. "It was his birthday, and I made him a money cake, but he didn't take the coin out before he put a piece in his mouth and..."

"I see," Vivian replied. "Don't you worry." She turned to Jason, who had a childlike smile on his face. "What kind of cake was it?" She asked him.

"Choc'lit," He answered. Vivian couldn't help but smile again.

"Sounds tasty. Now, let's see what we can do about that coin..." Vivian pulled the curtain across the bed.

-----------------------------------------------

The violins came in exactly on the first beat, adding a variation of the melody to the piece. The firsts sailed over the notes like a butterfly, completing run after run, while the seconds took a meatier role, supporting the middle of the scaffolding of sound. A wave of percussion followed this, signaling the end of the phrase, prompting a duet of clarinet and piccolo. The music became light and bouncy for a time, then regained the heavier melody and counter-melody from before. Effortlessly, the orchestra wove the fabric of sound and rhythm together, enveloping the conductor as his arms danced high above the pit.

Slowly the ensemble added more and more voices to the sound, letting it build and then fall away a little bit. The strings swept the sound off it's feet, carrying it higher and then passed it to the winds, who gently cradled it and carried it back to Earth. The conductor's arms waved in accordance to the music; soft and flowing, then rapidly and choppily. The orchestra watched his every move carefully, until the entire group moved as one, breathed as one, and finally ended as one.

Satisfied with this practice, the conductor spoke very briefly to his group and then dismissed them. He stepped down from the podium and rubbed at his eyes with one hand while fishing in his pocket for his cell with the other. A voice called him from the left.

"That was excellent work, Mr. Myong," An older, graying man commented. The younger man smiled and nodded slightly.

"Thank you sir," He replied gratefully. He handed the baton back to his conductor. "Do you think we are ready for tonight?" The senior conductor chuckled.

"Based on that performance, we're more than ready. You will make a fine conductor someday James." The two men walked along the edge of the pit over to one of the exits. "Have you applied for the program at the University yet?" The older man inquired.

"I sent my transcripts yesterday," James answered, clasping his hands behind his back. "The department head seemed to remember me."

"You were a very good student, James," His senior reminded him. "I have full confidence in your capabilities, and I know you'll be accepted."

"Thank you again sir," James expressed as they arrived at the other end of the hall. The two men turned to each other for a moment, as if reading each other's minds.

"The down beat's at 7," The elder Myong's conductor said, before stepping through the exit into the bowels of the auditorium. His student about-faced and went his own separate way.

-----------------------------------------------

Kyung Hwa had been right. The cranberry bagels at the hospital food court were _delectable_.

Vivian took another enthusiastic bite and washed it down with a chai tea. While it was true her day off didn't technically start for another 45 minutes or so, she had taken the liberty of nipping out of the ER for a bite to tide her over. She'd finished up her cases about an hour ago, and eventually got sick of reading Yongseung's email over and over, even though it sounded so good. Besides, she wouldn't be gone long. Once she was officially free she would go have a proper lunch at an actual restaurant somewhere.

Supposedly there was a really good noodle house in Chinatown...

She disposed of her cup and plate in a recycle bin, then wiped her hands and mouth on a napkin. As she looked down she saw a spot of what looked like cranberry guts on her coat.

'No biggie,' She told herself. 'I've got laundry to do today anyways.' She stretched for a moment then strode back down the hallway towards her domain.

-----------------------------------------------

As the glass doors parted for her, Vivian noticed several things that could be deemed a little odd.

Firstly, the waiting area chairs were relatively empty. Rare on a Friday certainly, but even more so when that Friday happened to fall on a full moon.

Secondly, the nurses all appeared to be idle. A cynical patient might argue that that isn't exactly odd, but there was usually one or two nurses busying themselves with something. At least, that's how Copeland tried to keep his ER.

Thirdly, the patients that were in the chairs waiting all appeared to be quite quiet. Granted, that's not to say that there was a regular influx of screaming people, but it was eerily quiet, almost deathly quiet. To Vivian this didn't make much sense.

Fourthly, ... 'Oh my God there she is.'

Sure enough, one Countess Isabella Valentine was seated in a chair very close to the triage desk, looking around like a lost puppy trying to find it's owner.

'Shit.' Vivian ducked around a corner, out of view of the desk. 'They kicked her out of her room already?' The intern hazarded a glance around the corner. No, she wasn't dreaming, there sat her former charge, gowned and robed. 'I guess they didn't find her clothing then,' Vivian assumed. She looked again, but turned back as she saw the Englishwoman's head turn in her direction. 'Crap!' The intern decided to sacrifice her dignity and scooted along the wall back towards the food court.

'I don't want to get into a conversation, I don't want to have a confrontation, She scares me slightly, I don't think she's sane...' The intern began naming reasons off on her fingers to justify her actions. She sighed.

"And if I don't go in there, my boss will eat me." She sighed again as this fact hit her fully. In the end, this wasn't worth the reprimand she'd receive. Swallowing her apprehension, the Korean intern walked out from behind the corner and stepped into full view of the ER. She did her best to avoid eye contact and strode directly over to and behind the triage desk.

'So far so good,' She told herself, hiding behind a computer. She logged on and tried her best to look busy. She risked another glance at Ivy, her head sticking above the trench-like desk like a gopher.

'Hmm,' She hummed, observing her patient. 'At least none of her bruising is visible. And she doesn't look like she's in any physical pain-'

"Looking at something Vivian?" Copeland's voice boomed. At the sound of her physician's name Ivy's head turned towards the desk, making the younger woman duck for cover with a reddened face. The Korean whirled around.

"No sir," She lied, feeling her face grow hotter along with her anger.

Honestly, one of these days...

"Hmm. Well then, carry on," Her superior dismissed himself. Vivian grit her teeth and stared at the monitor, praying that her face wasn't as red as it felt. The computer's clock read 11:30.

'Great. I need to deal with him for another half hour. Are there any cases to be dealt with?' She got up and walked over to a rack of charts and files. She rifled through it for a moment but saw nothing that wasn't already being taken care of. 'Maybe I should just leave early if there's nothing to do...' She thought, surveying the ER. She sat down again at the terminal and pulled up an internet browser. 'Maybe I can somehow stretch my horoscope out over 30 minutes...'

'... Nope.' Vivian leaned back in the chair and cracked her back. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling a little bit dizzy. She diagnosed it as still being hungry and sat up straight again. She looked at the clock once more.

'Well I managed to waste about ten minutes,' She thought proudly. She looked to either side, then behind her, before risking another cautious look over the top of the desk. Sure enough, Ivy had not moved. Against her wishes Vivian began to feel a little bit worried.

'Copeland said he took care of it. Maybe whomever he arranged for her is late,' She told herself. She ducked back down under the desk. 'Or maybe he's sending her up to psych after all,' The intern thought evilly. She slapped her wrist for thinking like that.

"What I really should be questioning is why this bothers me," She reminded herself aloud. 'It's probably best that I make sure she's gone before I leave,' She decided. 'That ought to free my conscience.' Satisfied with her plan, Vivian walked over to the coffee pot and poured herself another cup. Oddly enough, she seemed to be building up a bit of a resistance to the caffeine. She took a long-anticipated sip and relished the hot liquid pouring down her throat.

What addiction, right?

"Dr. Myong?" Vivian didn't need to turn around to recognize the voice.

"Yes Soneera?" The intern spun in her chair.

"I double-checked with the police about Ms. Valentine's clothing; they're not giving it back." Ms. Lakhani informed her. "They need it for a potential case against whoever was behind this."

"Alright, I suppose," Vivian regarded the information. "I just hope she's got more stuff in her suitcase, wherever that may be." Soneera nodded agreement. "Do you happen to know who's going to meet her?" Vivian inquired.

"No, all I got out of Copeland was that she was taken care of already," Soneera told her. "I guess he's got something planned."

'That could be dangerous,' Vivian thought. "I hope so. He's left me in the dark too." Vivian took another sip of coffee. "I'm sure we can trust him though, he knows what he's doing," Vivian added, so not as to sound slanderous about her superior.

A.k.a., like she was telling the truth...

Vivian decided it was time for a change of subject.

"So how have you been recently?" She inquired. Soneera smiled.

"I've been pretty good. My parents are hinting at the whole 'Let's get you married' plan again," Soneera replied. Vivian chuckled.

"That sounds like my parents last night. Well, my Mom at least. My Dad doesn't seem to mind that I'm not exactly settled yet." Vivian drank more coffee. "She won't be pleased until I come to her with a wedding date."

"I know what that's like," Soneera sympathized, rolling her eyes jokingly. "My Mom won't be happy unless _she_ sets the date." Vivian nodded understanding.

"Does she know you have a boyfriend already?"

"Not exactly," The Masala admitted. "He's a nice guy, but I think she'll eat him if I try to introduce the two." Vivian laughed.

"That bad hey?"

"Uh huh. What about you?"

"I've learned not to say too much about my dating life, it lets the marriage conversation out of it's cage. All they know so far is that I'm seeing someone, and he too seems like a nice guy." Vivian said. The Korean looked up at the clock over Soneera's head. "Hmm. 12 already." She noticed.

"So that means you're getting out of here, right?"

"Not quite yet. I want to make sure that she," Vivian stuck her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of Ivy. "Is actually taken care of. Neither of us know anything about who is coming for her, so I'm waiting for someone to show up before I jet," Vivian explained, cracking her knuckles.

"I thought doctors weren't supposed to do that," Soneera joked.

"Bite me," Vivian shot back. Both women giggled for a moment. A voice called from the side and Soneera went to answer it, leaving Vivian.

'Hmm. Well, I could always try checking my email again,' The intern thought, swiveling again to use the computer. Sure enough, her inbox was almost empty save for the lovely little surprise from Yongseung. She chose to read it one more time, savoring every sentence, examining every single word. In doing so she managed to kill ten minutes.

-----------------------------------------------

Ten minutes in which Ivy was still there.

'They're just a little late, that's all,' Vivian rationalized. 'Whoever it is, they'll be here soon.'

That excuse got thin about 20 minutes and five games of Solitaire later.

Vivian stood up and peered out over the ER. Half an hour was plenty time for some faces to rotate in the waiting room, and quite a few had, except for the one that mattered most.

Damn that Copeland...

"Is she going to sit there all day?" Soneera asked rhetorically. After another fifteen minutes had passed, the RN had taken up a position beside Vivian as an observer.

"Where is that boss of ours, Soneera?" The Korean replied with a question of her own. "I have a question to ask of him as well."

Both women had taken the coffee machine hostage. Soneera had just finished her second and Vivian was well into her fourth cup.

If the other staff noticed this off behavior, they had wisely decided to stay away

'I don't believe this. He gives me the afternoon off, but my conscience is keeping me here? How does that work?' Vivian asked herself, frustrated. Her hair fell back in front of her face. 'And I _still_ need to get that cut,' She reminded herself, pushing her bangs back again.

Aside from crossing and uncrossing her legs every five minutes, the English patient had not done much. And if the situation itself didn't always pull at the intern's heartstrings, the Englishwoman still looked like a lost puppy.

"The irony in this situation makes me want to hurl," Vivian muttered just loud enough for her companion to hear. Soneera chuckled, then began to sift through some files on the desk hurriedly. Before Vivian could ask what she was doing a tall figure in a white coat loomed over her with a mug.

"Still here Vivian?" Brian Copeland asked. "Good."

Well sir, I tried to leave, but those damn _morals_ got in the way again...

As usual Vivian restrained herself.

"Good. I wanted to talk to you about something.," Copeland went on to say. Vivian raised a finger.

"Um sir, I just wanted to point this out," She said, pointing over the desk. "It appears that Ms. Valentine's arrangement has not arrived yet." As if unaware of this, Copeland peered over the desk.

"Hm," He added, then said nothing more.

"Sir, it's been almost an hour past the time she was supposed to be picked up," Vivian reminded him, following when he began to walk back towards his office.

"Yes it has," He replied.

"She's looking a little bit stressed too sir, if you don't mind me saying so," Vivian was nearly jogging to keep up with him by now, trying to keep her own coffee in her mug.

"I suppose she is, yes..." He replied cryptically.

"Well," Vivian said, almost exasperated.

She could tell she was exasperated because her almost unnoticeable accent came back with a vengeance.

"Doesn't that... bother you?" She asked him as the two stopped running. He opened the door to his office and the pair went inside.

"Well it seems that it's given you enough anxiety for the both of us," Copeland noticed as he seated himself behind his desk. He motioned to Vivian to sit down, and she did so. "To tell you the truth, I've been thinking Vivian. About this past case of yours."

'Uh oh.'

"As we both know, Ms. Valentine was in a pretty rough state when she was brought in. And I think you and I would both agree that she's still not completely righted herself mentally, if you know what I mean."

"Yes," Vivian agreed cautiously. 'Speaking of those who aren't right mentally...'

"I've kept all of this in mind while I've been figuring out what to do with her," Copeland explained, rubbing his hands together. He reclined in the chair, looking both relaxed and intimidating at the same time.

'Wait a sec, didn't you say you already knew what you were going to do with her?'

"She doesn't have a place to stay in Toronto, that we both know. Therefore, choice two decrees that she stay in a women's shelter facility for as long as necessary."

'That would be logical, yes...'

"But that represents problems of it's own. A care facility such as a shelter would not be equipped to handle her possible mental and physical needs."

'I firmly disagree, but I'll stay quiet. I like my job.'

"This left me with a serious problem," He elaborated, rubbing his hands together. He leaned forward and looked at his intern. "After all, I needed her to stay with someone outside of the hospital, but who also would be able to take some responsibility for her as well..."

'Sounds great. Can I go yet?'

"... And that's why I've picked you."

'Sounds-... wait, _what_?'

"How does that sound to you?" Her boss asked.

'... _Shibal_.'

---------------------------------------------

Bet you never thought I'd update. There are several good reasons why this wasn't updated earlier, but it's here now and this time chapter five will be following it shortly.

A quick Korean glossary:

Bulgogi and tangsuyuk - Two Korean dishes. A couple of my personal favourites.  
Gamsa hamnida - Thank you  
Shibal - Korean equivalent of the F word.

Don't you love cliffhangers as much as I do? I promise that I'll tie up the loose end fairly quickly, as the ideas are flowing at an impressive rate now. As I said, these first few chapters are the setup to the entire story. As long as I do these exactly the way I need to, this is going to be quite the ride for both the reader and myself.


	5. Bisangu

Author's Notes: I'm sticking this at the front this time, since I have so much to say before you read this update. I deeply apologize for the lag in putting this chapter up, and I do have a couple reasons for it which I am not very proud of. To start with, I had a relapse of a deep depression starting in the beginning of August and trailing up until a couple weeks ago. It prevented me from concentrating on anything, let alone writing more of Sarang Isseoyo. I think I am starting to come out of it now, in which case I will be able to work on this more frequently than I have. On top of that, I have had a rough school year so far in terms of workload and the nature of the material. I've had far more work in these past four months than I've had in two years and I rather dislike that, to say the least. I know that I am in the IB program and some of it ought to be expected, but it's ridiculous. My stress levels have gotten to the point where I am seeing and hearing things, on top of not being able to sleep and whatnot. Yesterday was the first day in a long while that I haven't woken up with bags under my eyes.

But without further ado,

Bisangu - Emergency Exit

New Immigrant Survival Tactic Number One: If you don't want to understand, pretend you didn't.

"I'm sorry sir," Vivian apologized, coughing slightly. Her mouth had suddenly run quite dry. "I don't think I heard you properly. Could you say that again?" She made her accent a little bit more obvious to help her case.

"I've picked you, Vivian." Her boss reiterated. He stood up and paced around the room. "You said it yourself. She has nowhere to stay within the city, she certainly cannot stay here, and I'm not about to leave her with someone who doesn't intimately understand the situation," He elaborated. The emphasis he put on the word 'intimately' made the Korean's stomach turn a tiny bit, but her face remained blank.

"Y-yes sir," She muttered, feeling her face drain and her temple throb.

"You do understand my position then," He went on, stopping in front of the window. His back was turned to Vivian.

"With all due respect sir," Vivian found her voice, having recovered slightly. She stood up and joined her superior. "Is this really the only alternative we have?" Her boss smirked.

"I knew you were lying," He stated.

"It's not that sir," Vivian corrected him. She pushed her bangs back from her eyes. "But with all due respect... I have a life sir!" She tried hard to restrain her frustration.

She always was one for quick recoveries.

"This can be as permanent or as temporary as you wish," Copeland told her, subduing her. "But she needs somewhere to stay before she can figure out how to care for herself again."

"Sir... Please try to consider that, as an ER physician, I may not be fully equipped to handle situations that may arise with her care," Vivian thought quickly.

"Oh?" His eyebrow went up. "What sort of situations are you foreseeing?"

"Well," Vivian's mind began to formulate a list. "We were still rather unsure about her mental state. What would you suggest I do if I were to discover some proof of an instability?"

"Bring her back in. Not much you can do for that. Anything else a little more realistic?"

"To be honest, this isn't anything that was even remotely covered in my training. I'd be lost, sir," Vivian admitted. Her voice dipped low to exaggerate her point. "The ER isn't exactly a long-term care facility. We do what we can and then send the patients to people who specialize in what they need. And I'm not on a rotation, so I won't be picking these things up as I go."

"Can you think of anyone else who would be more suited to the job?" He asked, pacing the floor.

"Are there no RN's who can take this?"

"Ah, but like I said, no one knows her as well as you do."

'I don't know her at all, and I'd actually really rather that it stay that way.'

"There aren't any other effective alternatives, in my opinion."

'Which is incredibly narrow, for the record.'

"Can you think of any other ideas, Vivian, that would be more effective in seeing to her needs first?" His question was direct, and made the intern take a step back.

Damn he was good at that.

"Think of this as your crash course in long-term adult care. I really don't think you have very much to worry about." He finished when she was silent, sitting back down. Vivian could tell he was obviously done. "Don't worry intern. I'm certain she's toilet-trained. You're dismissed," He gestured towards the door.

"Y-yes sir," His intern said quietly, then picked up her now-empty mug and left quietly.

-----------------------------------------------

Screwed. That was the only word for it.

The story of her life. Vivian Myong had been unceremoniously screwed from Day One.

Screwed out of Korea. Screwed out of picking her own boyfriends. Screwed out of her first choice for hospital postings. And now she was screwed out of life entirely.

It was one giant circle.

The numbed intern didn't really register very much of her trip back down the hallway, towards Triage. Her feet moved but she was stationary, her eyes saw yet they were blind.

Soneera immediately consoled her with a refill of caffeine.

"What did he say?" She asked when her friend appeared to regain consciousness. Vivian took a deep and meaningful sip of coffee. She swallowed slowly, then stood up and looked over the desk. She took one long look at her new charge then sat back down, much to her friend's bemusement.

"I'm screwed." Was all she could muster before standing again and walking away.

Enter reality.

_Cue those violins_...

Her feet went on their own merry way down the hall and soon Vivian found herself in the washroom, staring blankly at the mirror. She touched her face, noting the slight bags under her eyes and lips that were drier than they ought to be.

'How the hell did I get to be such a mess?' She wondered, caressing her face. The bathroom was very silent as Vivian was the only one in there. It was just after lunch and therefore any interns or doctors requiring a trip to the loo were long gone and back at work, with whomever they had been assi-

She choked on the word 'assigned'.

The intern turned to look at the digital clock above the door, finding out it was just after one o'clock. Really, she could leave at anytime now. Or rather, _they_ could leave at anytime now.\

Ivy. Vivian nearly forgot about her.

Now, it wasn't that Vivian didn't like her. In all honesty, she didn't know enough about the woman to dislike her in any way. She was pleasant and polite and usually in good cheer when people spoke to her. She was proper and clean too, things which Vivian chalked up to the woman's higher British upbringing. None of the doctors or nurses or support staff could find a single problem in any of their encounters with Ivy at all.

Except for perhaps her being crazy.

"I am not afraid of mental patients," Vivian declared out loud after a large sip of coffee. "But I am afraid of her. And it seems I am afraid of her for no damn reason whatsoever."

Something behind the intern creaked and she jumped.

'...But I will be absolutely _mortified_ if someone just heard that.' She walked around the silent washroom, listening until she was certain she was indeed alone. She sighed and pressed her back against the wall facing the door.

'I have to go sometime,' She reminded herself. 'Can't stay in here forever.' She finished her coffee and rubbed her eyes. 'Besides, once I get home, and get her occupied, I can sleep until dinner.' Feeling a little better already, Vivian walked out of the bathroom and over towards the Triage desk.

'How bad could it possibly be?'

-----------------------------------------------

Ivy's stomach protested a little louder this time, making her wrap her arms around herself and hope no one heard. She had seen Vivian walk back and forth down the hallway, and the intern had looked out into the ER from behind the desk a few times, but she had said nothing and had a slightly distressed look on her face. Ivy had noticed the distinct look on the Korean's young face when she had returned from wherever she had wandered to with her superior; she had had that look on her face several times before. At best, she could describe it as a look of abandonment.

She was pulled out of her musings by the softest of taps on her shoulder. Ivy's head whipped to the side and found a tiny pale cream-coloured hand resting on it.

"Dr. Myong," Ivy addressed the woman behind her, a little surprised. "Good afternoon," She greeted.

"Good afternoon to you too," Vivian returned as politely as she could manage. "I need to speak with you for a few moments, would you mind following me?" She looked at Ivy for a moment, gauging her reaction. The Englishwoman's face showed slight surprise, but remained relatively neutral. Vivian began to walk, not quite sure where she was going, but perfectly content to continue in that direction. Behind her she heard Ivy stand up and follow.

The intern gradually became aware she was heading in the direction of the staff locker room, and promptly halted upon reaching the set of double doors marked 'Authorized Staff Only Beyond This Point'. She turned around slowly, searching for a speech that wouldn't sound too stupid to the Englishwoman's ears. Ivy looked at her expectantly.

"Hmm, I guess I had better simply say it like this," Vivian started shakily, hearing her accent again. She attempted to calm herself enough to suppress it. Ivy's eyebrows furrowed, unsure of the Korean's point. "There has... been a little change of plans." Vivian stifled a yawn, promising herself some sleep after this whole mess had been taken care of. "I was under the impression that my superior and I had already worked out all the of the details regarding this situation. Apparently, I was wrong." Vivian swallowed. "You are going to be leaving today, but the details of the rendezvous have changed."

Ivy still looked very confused, and Vivian could see the slightest traces of weariness and exhaustion on her face. "Instead of someone coming to pick you up, you will simply be coming home with me." Vivian's throat went very, very dry. Unable to find anything else to say, she merely watched instead.

Ivy felt the knot in her stomach unclench slightly, now knowing a little bit more about her fate. The intern was friendly, a capable doctor, very caring from what she could see, and therefore would probably be a very suitable host for however long Ivy required room and board. The intern happened to look a little sick at the moment, but chances are it was nothing terribly upsetting. "Well," She coughed. "That's very good to hear, to me anyways."

'I'm glad one of us thinks this is amusing-'

"So, I suppose we'll be leaving quite quickly?" Ivy cut off Vivian's thought, startling her slightly.

"Um, yes, yes we will. I just need to get a few things together and then we should be off very quickly." Vivian said in one breath. She smiled at her patient, or at least she felt something about the position of her lips change. She pulled a chair in the hallway over abruptly and offered it to her patient. Ivy gave a very small smile in return, then sat down. Vivian strode into the locker room.

'I'mtakingmypatienthomewithmeinapproximatelytenminutes. Ishouldtrytotakedeepbreaths,' Vivian's mind went at mach 2. She rubbed her eyes although they did not hurt. She closed her eyes, opened them a moment later, then twirled her combination and opened her locker. In truth, there wasn't much she'd need to get to take home with her, since it was indeed Friday; she just needed her chima jeogori and helmet...

Helmet.

Dress.

Oh dear God.

-----------------------------------------------

'I... drive a motorcycle,' Vivian reminded herself in an ephemeral daydream. 'Motorcycle. Plus patient. Do _nooooooooot_ mix.' She closed her locker and pushed her forehead against it. 'Well, this complicates things nicely, doesn't it? It's not like I could take the dress on my bike anyways. Why didn't I think of this earlier?' She banged her head against the locker. 'Ugh, stupid... I need to get out of here, before I go completely insane.' She lifted her head back upright and tried to focus.

"Alright. I have three problems," She thought aloud. "I have a fragile dress to take home, a fragile patient to transport, and my bike isn't fit for either." She opened her locker again, as if it would spit an idea in her face. The intercom came on in the tiny room, announcing a situation in one of the trauma rooms. After the urgent message was over however, light music continued in the background, which Vivian recognized as the hold music on the phones. It was a sort of interlude that might be considered odd in a hospital, consisting of a semi-Latin beat played by a tiny local group; some sort of jazz orchestra...

'_James_. That's it,' Vivian thought, almost excited. 'I need to get James.' She dove into her locker and pulled her cell, stuffing it in the pocket of her scrubs. She pulled the chima jeogori out carefully, as it was folded and packaged in plastic. She tucked it under one arm and locked the locker with the free hand. As the locker door swished open Ivy looked up at her questioningly.

It was at this point that Vivian's potential headache turned into a full-blown migraine.

'Scratch that,' She told herself. 'I have four problems to deal with.' She looked not so much at Ivy, but at her clothing. And suddenly it seemed as if the package under Vivian's arms became heavier, or at least more noticeable.

'_No. Absolutely not._' One half of Vivian's head said coldly. '_It's all you have. Just do it._' The other side reminded, launching her into quite the conundrum.

'There is no way in hell she's wearing this.'

'Do you have a better plan?'

'There has to be something else.'

'Guess what? There isn't.'

"Dr. Myong, are you quite alright?" Ivy's voice cut the battle short. Vivian snapped back to attention, noticing the odd look her patient was giving her. Vivian blinked.

'It's the only way. You'll just have to pay James an indecent sum of money to keep his mouth shut.'

"Yes, indeed," Vivian replied, trying to keep happy. She pulled the garment under her arm so that it was held tightly against her chest. Her throat closed off. "Well," She coughed. "According to hospital po_licy_," Her voice cracked a bit. "You can't really wear those out of the hospital." 'Yes, I _know_ I'm being a giant hypocrite, but it's a freaking gown, and it's cold outside. She's wearing something else, even if it has to be this thing,' She clutched the dress tighter. "So, I thought perhaps, if this will fit you," She indicated the clothes in her arms. "That you could wear this instead, at least until we get back to my place." Ivy looked at the dress, only part of which she could see, then nodded.

"Alright," Vivian said, finding part of her voice again. "Um, perhaps you could just step in here with me," She held open the door to the locker room. Ivy got up and walked hesitantly inside, Vivian following. Vivian lead her through a small corridor to the women's part of the locker room, then turned to face her patient.

"I hope you'll understand," She started, struggling to keep her voice from squeaking. "I will... probably have to help you put this on, since chances are you've never worn one before." Ivy nodded, seemingly comfortable with the idea. Vivian nodded back, feeling a tad more professional every minute. "Very well. Would you mind removing that robe for me please?" Ivy followed suit, wriggling out of the sleeves then shrugging the item onto the floor. "Good. And the gown, if you don't mind..." Vivian turned away to pull the dress out of it's package, giving the older woman a moment of privacy. Vivian spread out the individual pieces of the dress over a wooden bench in the middle of the room, looking for the one she needed first. Finding it, she picked the garment up carefully and turned back to Ivy, who now held the gown in front of herself.

'Glad to see I'm not the only one who doesn't like the lack of changing stalls in here,' Vivian thought. She handed a pair of silk pants to Ivy. "Ok. These have to go on first," She explained, waiting until the Englishwoman took them. She turned away again to allow her to put them on. While she waited, she searched for a couple of strips of cloth to bunch the ankles with. She located them and turned again. Ivy stood before her, half-clothed and with her hands over her chest.

"What next?" She asked, looking a little uncomfortable. Vivian opened her hand.

"I need to ties these around the ankles. It cinches the pants and gives a bit of a puffed effect." She bent down and quickly fixed each pant leg, just as eager as Ivy to get this over with. "There we go," She said as she stood up again. "Actually, those pants fit pretty well. To tell you the truth, this thing is a little big for me," She admitted, then picked up another piece of the ensemble. "Under skirt," She explained, passing it to Ivy, who shifted uncomfortably to grab the skirt without exposing too much of herself. Vivian looked away out of courtesy while she put it on, and picked up the blood-red skirt and the matching tie. She gave Ivy a moment to put the skirt on, then gently fixed it into place with the tie. Wordlessly she handed Ivy a sort of slip for her upper half, creating a barrier between the skin and the actual jacket. Satisfied with the look, Vivian picked up the last of the pieces.

'Now this is the part where she's going to protest,' Vivian told herself. "This is the last piece," She held the soft orange jacket up. "Once you have this on, you're basically done dressing. You can keep the hospital slippers on, since the actual shoes definitely won't fit you." Vivian walked around behind Ivy, waiting for the older woman to open her arms. Vivian gently slipped the older woman's left arm into the jacket, straightening the sleeve as she went. She took the right arm gingerly, noting how soft the skin was before sliding the jacket over it. Vivian moved back around to Ivy's front, suddenly noticing two more problems.

One, the chima jeogori was designed by Koreans. Therefore, it was designed to fit the Korean body.

Two, Vivian was very short. And the slip was rather translucent.

'Of all the days to decide to wear flats,' She grumbled. She pulled the two halves of the jacket together, praying it would fit by some miracle. She pulled rather tightly, standing on her toes to try and fix the collar. 'Great. I don't think this jacket will fit, and if I try any harder I'm going to get a face full of boobs. Lovely.' Deciding that there may be a better way to do this, Vivian turned Ivy and stood on the bench.

"Just so I can get a better view of what I'm doing," She said. Ivy looked up at her through a platinum fringe. Vivian smiled, which relaxed her patient a little more. She got back to work at straightening the collar and jacket body, finally succeeding at closing the jacket but keeping it comfortable. "There we go. Is that alright?" She asked.

"Yes," Ivy replied, breathing easier. Vivian quickly tied the closing knot in the collar ties and straightened them, letting the rest of their length fall.

"Ok, you're done," Vivian told Ivy, hopping down off the bench. "Want to see what it looks like?" She motioned for Ivy to follow her towards the bank of sinks in the washroom. Ivy hesitated at first, then walked over to stand beside Vivian in front of the wall of mirrors.

Vivian had been right, the outfit didn't fit too badly at all. The skirt came maybe a centimetre or two too high, but other than that the ensemble fit very well and was indeed quite comfortable. Aside from the very obviously European characteristics, Ivy did look sort of Korean with the ensemble on.

'Not bad, not bad at all,' Vivian thought, looking the Englishwoman over. 'In any case, it'll work. Now we need to phone my brother.' Vivian walked over to the benches. She picked up the plastic bag and Ivy's used hospital garments, deposited the used clothing in a receptacle for scrubs by the hand dryer, and waved Ivy over.

"So, what do you think?" Vivian asked her as she opened the doors to the locker room.

"I'm not sure how it looks on me, but the outfit itself is very pretty," Ivy replied. Vivian smiled at her, then steeled herself.

'This is the part where we pretend to be invisible,' She thought as the pair walked into the front hall of the ER.

-----------------------------------------------

A few heads turned, one or two eyebrows jumped, but the overall reaction upon seeing the pair was very calm and collected. Vivian breathed a sigh of relief upon noticing that her boss was nowhere to be found, and quickly ushered Ivy outside with her. The two of them moved over to stand by a window. Vivian pulled out her cell phone.

"Give me a minute, I'm going to find my brother," She told Ivy as she turned the phone on and dialled. It rang for a few moments.

"Hello?" A masculine voice questioned.

"Hey, James, it's me," Vivian replied, knowing he would able to figure out the identity of the caller.

"Oh, hey Viv, what are you up to?"

"Not much. Listen, I need a _huge_ favour from you."

"You know I'd do anything for you, right?" Vivian could hear the smile in his voice.

"Yeah, I know. But this one is different."

"What do you need?" He asked. Vivian swallowed. This was it.

"Can you pick me up from work? Like, right now?"

"Um, I think so, why? Is something wrong?" James asked in concern.

"Um, not really..." Vivian trailed off. She looked over at Ivy, then walked about a metre away for privacy. "Ok, here it goes. I'm taking a patient home with me but she's fragile so I can't take her on my bike. She'd probably flip out and fall off or something-"

"Whoa, wait. You're what?" James asked incredulously. "What's going on?" Vivian sighed.

"I got a new patient this week, and she has to stay with someone who can take care of her. Naturally, my boss appoints me. I don't know how long she'll be with me. But I can't get her home on my bike, plus she's a tourist and she doesn't have any clothes or money. We think she was attacked and everything she had was either stolen or taken by the police for evidence.

"I really need your help James." Vivian finished. The other end of the line was silent for a time.

"I... I don't know about this, Vivian," He started. "I mean... if you just started taking care of her, you don't know her all that well... And now she's going to live with you?"

"I know it sounds odd, but Copeland won't have it any other way. Believe me, I tried to fix it better for myself," Vivian explained. "I didn't get very far."

"So you're expected to feed _and_ clothe _and _provide shelter for her until she can do it herself?" James surmised.

"Basically. She's a British national, but she doesn't have any ID. The only reason I know this stuff about her is because I read her patient info sheet. So basically, I'm housing an illegal until we can get some proof of identification from somewhere."

"The British embassy might be able to help you with that," James suggested. "Still... you don't know her, and that isn't safe. I'm not sure this is a good ide-"

"Please?" Vivian begged. "I don't like it anymore than you do, but it's not going to work out any other way. Can you please come get the both of us?"

"Viv, you know I can't just-"

"_Pleeeeeeaaaaaaaseeeeeeee, _Jaegi?" Vivian hoped his Korean name might inspire graciousness on the part of her eldest brother. His sister's tone finally made him relent.

"You know, you haven't used that since I hid your candy in my room." He reminisced. Vivian laughed. "Alright. I'm about ten minutes away right now, so I'll be right there."

"Thank you so much," Vivian impressed.

"You're welcome sis. Just, for my sake, be careful."

"I will. Goodbye," She said.

"Goodbye." The line clicked dead.

"He'll be here in about ten minutes," Vivian said to Ivy as she took her place beside her again and put her phone back in her pocket next to her pager and keys. Ivy nodded, then the pair fell silent. A breeze cut through the air, reminding Vivian that she had left her bomber jacket inside the building.

"Could you wait her for just a moment?" She asked. "I just left something inside." Vivian ran back inside to fetch the jacket quickly, hoping her brother wouldn't show up in the time it took to find it.

She had a lot of explaining to do.

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Though it probably was cold outside, Ivy felt nothing through the silk dress the intern had put her in. It was very breathable yet it was also rather warm. By comparison Vivian was under dressed, and it wasn't hard to tell from the gooseflesh on her arms that she needed something more.

Ivy knew she was intimidating from a very young age. Compared to most women in England, including her mother, she had what might be considered a manly height, and her hairstyle did little to deflect this. At parties she would often try to hide herself away, holing up in the library or her bedroom until her mother sent a maid up to find her and drag her back downstairs to socialize. It wasn't that she didn't like people, it was more... Well, she didn't like the people she had to socialize with. It was very difficult to discuss science with a group of young ladies who would be content to gawk at a handsome gentlemen for the rest of their lives, and then, God willing, marry him. It would be wrong to say that Ivy had never thought about marriage. But, it certainly wasn't all she thought about either.

That was her in a nutshell, really. The tall, snowy haired wonder, who felt completely at home with a group of men talking about math or science or English literary works. Her head was academic, but it was housed in a body that restricted her from taking advantage of that.

Her late father had taught her everything he could, and everything she was willing to learn. Her mother did disapprove a little bit, after all she was a lady, but she also knew how passionate Ivy was about learning. To take that away from her would be to tell a bird it cannot fly. Ivy absorbed everything as quickly as she could, becoming enthralled with her father's study of mathematics and alchemy and ultimately...

...Ultimately Soul Edge. Like many, Ivy's father was seduced by the blade, and while all of their possessions slowly disappeared, sold to pay his expenses in researching the sword, Ivy stayed by him. When her mother began to act coldly towards him, Ivy stayed by him. Or, at least she tried to. One day he simply locked his laboratory and kept the key in his pocket.

'That should have been a clue that I had lost him,' She thought, kicking the ground with her toe repeatedly. 'That should have told me to get help.'

Then the sickness came. The sickness that took him down and swiftly strangled him. He was gone in less than two weeks. Then her mother fell ill as well, presumably to the same disease. She was naturally a stubborn woman, at one point Ivy heard the remaining servants gossiping about she was "not afraid to die, but just too damn stubborn." Perhaps it was this about her mother that allowed her to live a little longer; she died after a little over two weeks had passed.

Slowly everything she had ever known was taken away from her. She'd adapted to the new life, carrying on her father's work and pursuing the sword that consumed his being. And now she was here, starting all over yet again. Perhaps she wasn't entirely alone this time, if she could keep from completely intimidating her hostess. It was highly surprising to Ivy that a woman such as the intern would be willing to take a near stranger into her house, and almost a little unbelievable. Turning down her offer would leave Ivy with nothing however, and she needed something, anything to get back on her feet. She hated it, but she knew that in this new world, she was absolutely lost.

If she could get this younger woman's help, with any luck she could... What could she do? Her knowledge was centuries out of date, it wasn't hard to see that. She was the one thing she dreaded most: she was useless.

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"There we go, much better," Vivian's voice drifted over the air. Ivy whirled around. The intern looked much warmer, having found a leather jacket. It was cut in an unfamiliar style, but not unattractive, Ivy decided. The intern fished in her pocket for something, glanced at it, then put it back.

"He should be here any time now," She muttered, looking straight ahead. Ivy followed suit, if only to look a little more normal.

"Who are we waiting for?" She asked for clarification.

"My brother James," Vivian replied. "He's going to take us back to my place, but I think I'll ask him if we can stop quickly at my parent's first. There are a couple things I want to pick up, plus my older sister's old clothing might fit you. It's not the greatest, but it'll have to do until we can get you some new stuff," Vivian's eyes jumped to a point. "There he is," She said, sounding relieved.

A strange red contraption with wheels pulled up to the curb in front of the two women. A man wearing dark glasses rolled down a window and waved them over. Vivian smiled at Ivy briefly, then the two proceeded over to the vehicle.

"Thank you so much James, you're a life saver," Vivian started, but James cut her off.

"Vivian... why does she look terrified?" At James' question, Vivian turned to check her patient. There was a marked look of apprehension on her features.

"Um... no reason. Anyways,-"  
"And why is she wearing your chima jeogori?" James asked pointedly. Vivian gave him a subtle look in return.

"I'll explain later, ok?" Vivian didn't wait for a response, instead she ushered Ivy over to the other side of the vehicle and opened the door to the back. "After you," She offered. Ivy looked at her for a moment, then slowly climbed into the back seat, followed by Vivian. The intern closed the door.

Ivy seated herself as comfortably as her nerves would allow in the back of the strange device. Vivian climbed in after her, seating herself right by the door and pulling a strange strap over her body. It locked into place with a corresponding piece on the seat itself. Ivy found her own strap and mimicked the intern. She pulled it tight against herself to eliminate the slack.

"Back to your place?" The man in the front asked. He began spinning a wheel affixed to the board in front of him, causing the vehicle to come about. It slowly moved forward out of the tiny loading zone onto the street.

"Not quite, actually. Could we head to Mom and Dad's first, so I can get a few things?" Vivian asked in return. "I was planning to grab some of my stuff tomorrow, but since you're here right now I thought we could go there first and get all of it in one trip."

"Alright. But be aware, Mom's not working today," James warned. "We might be staying longer than you expect."

"I'm going to... try and avoid that," Vivian thought out loud, casting the quickest of glances at the woman across from her. "I... both of us need to go home." James turned a dial on the radio, turning a classical piece back up. It was subtle, but audible.

"Ki Soo..." James said, barely over the orchestra. "You've got a lot of explaining to do."


	6. Yeol

Yeol - Heat

--------------------------

Christine was trying to pay attention. She really was, despite the outward appearance. She'd long since admitted to herself that she didn't care very much at all, but for the sake of her grade she was attempting to pay attention to the guest speaker. She was definitely giving listening a shot.

Or she was, until she found more loose leaf paper.

'Oh my God Leah,' She wrote as discreetly as she could manage. Her writing was far from neat, but still quite legible. 'He's so damn _boring_!' She folded the paper into a tiny shape and pressed it into the open palm of the girl beside her. Leah stared at the paper for a second, then took it and unfolded it. After a moment or two she felt around the top of the desk for a pen and scrawled a reply.

'I know,' It read. 'Do you even understand what he's saying?' Christine picked up her pen again.

'Nothing. It's just blah-blah-blah the entire way.' She passed the paper back.

'Ugh. How much longer until this class ends?' Christine read a minute later. She looked at the clock out of the corner of her eye.

'Oh my God. Another 30 minutes.' As she read it, Leah moaned softly.

'Get me out of here,' She wrote back, underlining her words. Christine chuckled softly.

'Take me with you when you go?'

"Enthralled are we, Ms. Myong?" The teacher asked from his desk. Christine swore mentally. She dropped her pen.

"Absolutely sir," She replied, turning to face his desk. The balding man did not look amused. "I'm hanging on every word." She watched him get up and walk over to her desk. The class grew eerily silent.

"Perhaps I can see your notes on the presentation then?" He asked expectantly. Behind his thick glasses a pair of dark orbs flared, daring her to defy him. For a change of pace, Christine didn't take the bait.

"Sure," She smiled mockingly. She passed him the sheet of loose leaf paper. He glared at her, then looked at the paper. His eyes narrowed further.

"And what the hell do you call _this_?" He waved the illegible paper in front of her.

"Korean," Christine replied. "Would you like me to read it to you? Here, we'll start with what I wrote first-"

"Are you looking for an exclusion Ms. Myong?." He asked sternly. His eyes threatened to bore a hole through the teen's skull. Christine fought back a remark, settling for a mocking facial expression instead.

"Are you saying you'd exclude me for writing in my own language?" She returned, eyebrow raised tauntingly. 'Say it, I dare you, you _jot degari_.' A whisper fell over the class, the guest speaker completely forgotten by this point. The English teacher glared around the room, silencing the noise.

"For writing in it, no," He admitted. "For writing in it during English class and paying no attention whatsoever, yes," He became far too polite to be genuine. Christine chewed her lip, trying to anticipate his next move.

"Um... okay," She said, a little confused at his apparent lack of words and action.

"Now I don't suppose your mother would be able to read this to me, would she?" He waved the paper in front of her nose. "Maybe I should call her, see how she's doing. It's been quite a while since I've talked with her, hmm?" Christine felt her face begin to tinge.

"It's nothing _that _extreme," Christine responded, pointing towards the note.

"That's to be determined though, isn't it? After all, I certainly can't read this, unless Leah would like to help me out with that?" He suggested. Leah kept her head down, face reddening.

"Hmm, perhaps not," The teacher went on, slightly vindictively. "And I'm not going to get an answer out of you will I, Ms. Myong?" He asked. Christine glared at him, blood boiling white hot by this point.

It had to run in the family, this angry streak. A few... incidences had lead to speculation about whether or not it was simply teenage hormones in the works.

After all the Myong grandmother was well out of her youth, but that hadn't stopped her from biting the immigration officer at the swearing-in ceremony last June.

"I'll take that as a no then," He said, handing the note back to her. Christine stared at him, confused.

"Aren't you going to call my mother about this?" She couldn't help but ask. The teacher gave her a thin smile.

"Oh yes," He replied. "But you see, it's much more effective if you show it to her, instead of me showing her. Don't you agree?" His words prodded at the Korean teen's already mounting anger. She remained silent. "I said, don't you agree Ms. Myong?" He inquired again, harshly. Christine looked directly at him, his tiny eyes made tinier with anger.

"...Yes, Mr. Zhou." Christine muttered at long last.

"Very good," He replied, seemingly more cheerful. "Now if you wouldn't mind, we're in the middle of a presentation." His lip twitched. "Get out."

Christine remained silent. She shot him an odd half smile, prompting a look and a remark, but before the words formed on his lips the Korean packed up her books, slung her bag over her shoulder, stepped past the older gentleman and left the room.

William Lyon Mackenzie Collegiate Institute wasn't quite the tall towers and glass building design of some Korean high schools back home, but it was still a fairly good size and it was clean. A variety of sports teams existed within the school, all of them doing fairly well at their respective tournaments; there were arts and sciences groups within the school that met once or twice a week. It had good teachers and a nice facility, and many culture clubs to cater to the individual groups within the school. A few times a week at lunch, the school felt like Seoul.

Unlike her older siblings, Christine spent a relatively short amount of time in the Korean school system, having emigrated from her mother country when she was in grade six. Junior high had been one ESL course after another until grade nine, when she'd simply refused to sit in them any longer. Her English was pretty good, for the most part anyways. Except for when she was told to, she rarely used Korean in order to boost her English skills. After a test or two she had moved into the regular stream of high school without any problems.

And yet, even though she was speaking English, it didn't seem like the same language. Her parents were down her neck more than ever now. Initially because she couldn't speak English, now because she spoke it too much. First she was an introvert, now she wasn't close enough to home. And they fawned, oh how they _fawned_ over her other siblings. Mike was a prince, and he lapped up the attention. The older siblings were a little less worshipped as they weren't around very much anymore; James was married to his music and Vivian... Vivian...

Though words to describe her should have been there, there weren't any.

Because there was still a fair chunk of time to go before the bell, the hallways were still quite empty, save for some couples eating each other's faces and a few over-achievers studying like mad. Christine walked quickly past all of this, controlling the urge to shoot a dirty look at the enamoured people. She wasn't trying to see, but there was definitely eating and groping and moaning and ass grabbing all at the same time. Christine swallowed quickly, suppressing the gag reflex.

You can take the Korean out of Korea, but you can't take the Korea out of the Korean.

Her locker was located in the middle of a section shared by many other East Asian ethnic groups; Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese, loads of them. Despite her being in a Western city, she wasn't exactly a visible minority. Despite their diverse backgrounds they all seemed to identify themselves as one big group. Of course they were all students first and foremost, but beyond that they were one big Asian family. A great big happy group of people.

Aside from one very disgruntled, hormonal Christine Myong Ha Neul.

She walked down a flight of stairs into a quieter section of the school. The hallway here was a kitty corner away from the boilers, which made this stretch of the building very toasty and especially pleasant during the winter. Having arrived at her locker she quickly twirled her combination and threw the door open. She had calmed down a little, but not by much. Her locker was clean and wallpapered with Korean artists and TV personalities, many of which she watched regularly late at night. She looked dreamily at one particular actor, then turned her attention to the important manner at hand. She put her English books away and picked out her homework, stuffing it in her book bag. She pulled out her cell phone and turned it on, then slipped it too into the bag.

Christine took a brief look at her appearance and smoothed a lock of hair to the side. She had spent last night dyeing it back to black, figuring that she would let it grow out a little bit before picking another colour. Her heart was set on purple at the moment, but her mother might protest slightly to such an idea...

"Damnit!" She swore loudly, putting her bleeding ring finger in her mouth. She had gotten it caught in the hinge of the metal door. She sucked gently on it as she put the last few items she required into her bag and pulled out her black denim coat. She closed and locked the door, then took a look at her damaged digit.

"Oh, lovely," She muttered, looking at the finger. The nail had both torn and cracked, making it rather painful and impossible to repaint for a while. The black polish was now lined with blood around the sides. She sucked at it again for a moment, then put on her jacket. 'Screw this place,' She thought defiantly as she picked up her bag and walked back towards the main door. Her bus pass was trapped in her clenched fist.

--------------------------

"So what did you do today?" Vivian asked after a while. The car turned sharply, then rode smoothly down the tiny street.

"Practice today," James replied. The light turned red and he braked. "Orchestra for most of the day. I conducted the ensemble for the last hour."

"You have a concert tonight, right?" Vivian guessed.

"Yep. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come, but somehow I think you'll be busy." The light turned green, signalling the rush of vehicles into the intersection.

"Funny, James. Real funny," Vivian said sarcastically, choosing to use her native tongue for the remark.

"I try to be," He replied with a grin. Vivian shot him a playful look through the rear view mirror, then turned her attention to the woman beside her. Ivy was staring out of the window, one hand propped against the door to support her chin, the other clenched very tightly to the seat of the car.

'As if hanging on for dear life,' Vivian thought, noting the tenseness of Ivy's face. 'Well it was either James' Honda, or my motorcycle. And she _definitely_ wouldn't have liked the latter.'

The crimson silk cascaded gently over the seat, like a river over earth, and billowed out at the very bottom into a blooming flower of red petals and delicate lace inside. China doll feet poked out of the centre of the blossom, set in small cloth slippers. The skirt seemed to melt into the jacket, as if it were merely a segment of the flower's stem. The collar and cuffs were stiff and clean, adding formality to the beauty of the dress. It was delicate yet strong, muted but also prominent. The collar came in gracefully, dipping just below the top of Ivy's breastbone and forming a simply elegant knot. It caressed the neck, holding it and accenting it, while hiding the clavicle and part of the neck from view. Enticing and hiding, always hiding-

"Is there a problem Dr. Myong?" Ivy asked abruptly. Vivian snapped to attention, brown eyes struggling to hide panic and embarrassment.

"Not at all," Vivian squeaked quickly. 'Fix it, intern,' She thought. "Actually, I was about to ask you how you were feeling," She admitted. Ivy's eyebrow quirked.

"I am feeling very well," She replied, ignoring a tiny little bit of pain in her stomach. Just hunger, she figured. Vivian nodded to this, then turned to look out the window. Ivy followed suit, feeling the air grow heavy.

Structures taller than anything she had ever seen, anywhere, grew like trees out of the ground. More of the strange carriages she was riding in, but each of them different were all around them, speeding along to their own destinations. Some of the people in them appeared to be upset, even very angry.

The strange contraptions seemed to be governed to some extent by a system of different coloured lights. A red light made them stop, a green light told them to go. Sometimes the people in the carriages ignored these rules and went anyway on a red light, causing other people around them to become angry.

"Stupid people shouldn't be allowed to own cars," James grumbled, shooting a dirty look in the direction of the person who'd violated the rules.

'Cars,' Ivy sounded out in her head. He'd used a plural form of the word, she was certain, which meant that they were riding in a _car_. She put this new word into memory. Whatever this contraption was, it was called a car, and they were sometimes owned by stupid people.

After perhaps 15 minutes, James pulled off a main road onto a much quieter one, with more of the strange buildings but of significantly smaller size. They were decorated very differently from one another, each one was a slightly different colour, some had brick, others seemed to have rough hewn stone. Each one had a stretch of asphalt beside it, and a car resting there. Instead of buildings of commerce, these seemed like homes.

"What's the plan?" James asked as the car came to a stop in front of one of them. The house was of a moderate size, not the biggest house but nowhere close to the smallest either. The outside was an interesting crossbreed of East and West, a cute statue resembling a pagoda sat at the top of a wide set of stone steps to the front door, each one bulging further and further out in circles like a ripple; a domestic version of a cherry blossom tree was starting to bud on the front lawn, surrounded by a bed of irises and Black-eyed Susans, which in turn was surrounded by a black rock garden. A slate path cut a gash across the top of the well groomed lawn to the steps.

The two-story house had white stucco siding and a traditional tiled roof overhang above the front door in dark blue. All the windows had the same overhang style, except for a couple against the ground looking into the basement. A border encircled the structure, it came to about halfway up the front door and seemed to be made of that same sort of rough hewn stone Ivy had seen before. It provided a nice contrast with the whiteness of the rest of the building. The smaller building, which Ivy presumed to be some sort of shed, was also white with the stone border around it. It had a very large door on the front of it, for what purposes Ivy could not deduce. The roof, as it was on the house, was a dark blue similar to the overhangs.

Vivian sat back for a moment. "I don't know. I don't need very much, just some of my clothes and old room decorations, and perhaps some of your old clothing as well." James turned around. "My houseguest and I are not the same size. But I'm willing to bet she's not much shorter than you," The intern explained. Her brother relaxed a little.

"Okay, I'll see what I can find. But what are we going to do about Mom?"

"What about her?"

"I can't possibly be the only one who's going to notice what your guest is wearing," James turned to look at Ivy. "I don't think I ever got your name..."

"Ivy," She replied.

Vivian stopped for a moment. James had a point. "Perhaps, if we're not going to be very long, she could just stay in the car?" Her stomach turned a little. 'Way to make her feel unwanted, intern...'

"That would probably be best," Ivy agreed, surprising Vivian a little.

"...Okay then, we'll do that," James said after a moment. He unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car, Vivian following closely behind him.

"What's the best way to avoid staying long?" Vivian asked her brother as she pressed the doorbell.

"Avoid coming," He answered as the door opened to someone the two weren't exactly expecting.

"Why aren't you at school?" Vivian asked immediately.

"Screw school," Christine shot back. "Why aren't you at work?"

"That's a long and complicated story."

"Whose that in the car?" Christine asked, her head stuck out the front door.

'Shit,' Vivian turned just in time to see Ivy duck. "There's no one in there. James came to pick me up from work early so I could grab some things before I go." Vivian lied.

"No, there was definitely someone in the car."

"No, there definitely was not," Vivian reiterated. Christine gave her a hard stare reminiscent of her mother (though Christine's hair would turn white if anyone ever mentioned it) for a moment, letting Vivian know that she didn't believe her for one second.

"You're a really crappy liar, _unni_," Christine told her.

"Been a long time since you've used that honorific, hasn't it?" Vivian shot back. Christine almost never called her siblings by their titles.

"I know there's someone in there, just so you know," Christine glared.

"And as this is a free country you are perfectly allowed to think that, whether it is right or not," Vivian said. Christine gave her another mother-esque glare, then relaxed.

"Whatever," She said back, and left the matter there.

"Anyways, why are you home early from school?" Vivian inquired as the three of them went inside. "Sick?"

"Not exactly," Christine answered. She produced a piece of paper. "This." Vivian took the page and opened it, immediately recognizing _hangeul_ script. But there was something wrong with the words...

"Is this some sort of slang? I've never seen these words before," Vivian's eyebrows furrowed as she sounded out the words. "O ma-i gad ri-ah, dis keurasoo is so beoring?... Wait a minute, is this English?" The intern asked. "You write notes in class using English but in the Korean alphabet?" She passed it to James, who took a look at it for himself.

"Aren't you going to congratulate me for not completely turning my back on my heritage?"

"Yes, and no," Vivian said. "Now, where's Mom?" She asked, handing the note back to Christine.

"She went to go buy some stuff for dinner. Knowing her, she's probably buying out the whole store as we speak."

"Ah, good, that way she won't see-" Vivian stopped herself, hand over mouth.

"See what?" Christine inquired, squinting at her older sister.

"Nothing, except that... I'm not planning to stay for dinner," Vivian back-pedaled. "I'm so tired, I just want to get a few things and go home."

The tension could nearly be cut like a hot knife through _beoteo_.

"Very well," Christine said, still scrutinizing her older sister. Vivian tried not to look terribly weak. "What are you getting?"

"Just some old clothes and decorative stuff. Nothing that won't fit in a box." Vivian told her. "Now, if you'll excuse me." She made a beeline for the staircase and ascended it, James following her.

"Where are you going?" Christine asked his back.

"I'm getting stuff too," He called, disappearing from view. Christine's eyebrow quirked for a moment, then she went back into the kitchen to find something to chew on.

The inside of the house looked exactly how Vivian remembered it. It hadn't changed much since she'd moved out, but then again she'd only been in her apartment for two years at the most. The front room off to the left was painted in warm shades of soft orange and light green, the hardwood shone as always. The front room was curved outwards, creating an semi-octagonal space with floor-to-ceiling windows on each piece of wall. The fireplace sat on the centre wall, behind a low table surrounded by cushions, and above it a wall TV hung. Behind it, the kitchen could be partially seen.

The staircase was a couple metres away from the front door and lead to the upstairs in a curved sort of pattern. It stopped at a little stretch of hallway, which lead off to the side, concealing bedrooms and bathrooms. To the right of the stairs was another smaller sitting room with bay windows, sunken into the ground. Behind it was part of the dining room, the glass doors that separated the inside from the deck and back garden, and a small but nicely designed glass desk for the computers. Mike's laptop lay closed to the left of the family's main desktop machine.

The upstairs was completely done in dark hardwood flooring, as was the rest of the house except for the kitchen and bathrooms. Vivian slid quickly into her old room, which despite being a generic sort of room still looked somehow as if she had never moved out, and went into her closet in search of a box.

'I've not lived here for almost two years now,' She remembered, 'And yet it still smells like my perfume in here somehow.' She made a mental note to check how much she usually wore when she got home.

Upon finding a box , she began to dig deeper into her closet for her old candles and incense, which her mother had allowed her to keep in her room but never burn, in case of a fire. She found them stashed in a closet organizer drawer (although from the sight of her closet now, it never did much good), then put them into the box.

While she was in her room she began looking through her clothing, to see if anything she wore was still pleasing. She pulled out a couple sweaters, some blouses and her high school uniform, neat and pressed and wrapped in plastic as if it were brand new. She carefully folded it up and put it back in the closet, reminding herself that her old room was still probably the safest place for it. She grabbed the sweaters and blouses, folded them and put them in the box.

Vivian swept through the rest of her room, looking for pieces of nostalgia in the form of pictures or old decorative things from Korea that she could take with her. She grabbed a old picture of her and Yongseung sharing a gargantuan bowl of noodles and glowing like fireflies ('When did I take this one?') and placed it gently on top of her clothing. She spotted her _tansu_ chest and decided that it was too large to get today. She'd have to come back some other time for that. Unless...

She opened a few of the drawers. They had things in them, but they weren't heavy. She took out all the drawers, about eight in all, and put them in the box. The staircase frame looked very naked now, aside from the compartments with sliding doors. Vivian tried to lift it, pleased that the piece of furniture was actually fairly light without most of the pieces to it.

'I'll get James to help me,' She decided. 'Speaking of James...'

"Have you found anything?" Vivian asked quietly, poking her head in her older brother's doorway. He hadn't lived at home for some time now either, and Vivian wasn't a messy person, but his room seemed to be cleaner. Vivian's eyebrow quirked.

"I think so. You said she was just a little shorter than me?" He asked, head stuck in his closet.

"By a few inches at the most." Vivian cleaned the corners of her eyes with a slender finger.

"Okay then..." James pulled his head and arms out, holding clothing. "These should do the trick." He dumped his stuff into Vivian's arms.

"Okay, thanks. Uhm, while we're here...Would you mind helping me move my _tansu_?" She asked meekly, looking up at her brother.

" 'Just a few things, James, nothing particularly big, James...' " Her older brother said in a perfect imitation of the intern. Vivian rolled her eyes.

"Okay, I lied a little. But it's not that hard to move, really," Vivian persuaded. "I removed the drawers and stuff already, so that's removed most of the weight."

"Is there anything particularly heavy in it?"

"No."

"Okay, sure." The two of them went into Vivian's room. Vivian put James' clothes in the box, then picked it up off her bed. She turned to look at James, who was trying to figure out where the best hand holds were on the piece of furniture. James lifted the chest easily, then followed Vivian out of her room.

"And why are you taking this?" James asked as he eased down the stairs with the furniture.

"I need to decorate my apartment somehow. I think that'll probably go beside my bed, or against the wall in the hallway, wherever it looks best." Vivian put down the box to slip on her shoes. James did the same.

"Nothing that won't fit in a box, my ass. Why are you taking that?" Christine asked, her mouth full.

"I'm trying to Koreanize as much as possible, don't you know. I thought I'd start with all Korean furniture, then I'll wear my hanbok everywhere I go, eat kimchi without brushing my teeth afterwards, speak in a thick accent, demand people call me by my Korean name and even frequent noodle houses several times a day."

"I get the point," Christine said.

"I'm kidding, I hope you know," Vivian told her, smiling. Christine gave her an indifferent look.

"Whatever," She muttered. Vivian made a mental note to be a little gentler with her sister.

"I think we're ready to jet here," James said, shoes on and _tansu _in arms. Vivian nodded agreement. They turned to leave and were nearly beyond the threshold of the door when a foreign hand darted into the box and began pulling at something.

"Wait a sec, aren't these James'?" Christine asked.

"Yeah..." James trailed off, searching Vivian's face for something to say. "I'm... taking them to my place, so I figured I'd put them in Vivian's box while I lug her chest around," He improvised. Christine studied him suspiciously for a moment, along with her sister, then finally decided it was a plausible tale and let it go.

"You two are up to something," She said in their native tongue, her voice low. "What exactly it is, I'm not sure. But I'm willing to bet Mom wouldn't like it, would she?"

"Been a long time since you spoke Korean with me, too," Vivian noticed. "Look, Christine, I realize this all seems a little... suspicious, to say the least. But trust me, there's nothing going on. Absolutely nothing," She emphasized her last words. "My boss just decided that, well, since I've been working so hard lately that I deserve a bit of a break. He gave me the afternoon off." It was a partial lie, but also a partial truth. "So I decided that since I have free time this afternoon, I ought to come get some stuff for my apartment, it's still pretty bare looking. Okay?"

Christine rolled her eyes and twirled a finger through her hair. "Okay, okay, I get it." Vivian set the box down and surprised her with a giant hug.

"Thank you sweetie," She said earnestly. "Say hi to Mom for me, and tell her I'll give her a call later tonight." Christine initially shrunk away from the contact, then slowly put her arms around her sister and hugged back.

"Okay," She replied, her voice a little bit softer than it had been a moment ago. "We're still going to go out for lunch sometime, right?"

"Of course. Tell me when your next PD day is and we'll see if it works then, okay?" Vivian bargained, one foot out the door. Christine seemed to ponder the offer for a moment.

"Okay. Um... see you guys later," She said quietly. Vivian and James bid her farewell just as the door closed.

"Let's never do that again, yes?" Vivian asked as she loaded her things into the car. James started the engine.

--------------------------

The apartment was fairly well lit from the natural daylight, as opposed to how Vivian usually found it when she returned home from work, especially when on call. She slipped off her shoes and placed them behind the door, then set the box of belongings on the washing machine. Behind her, Ivy and James followed closely.

"So you're good with everything on your own now?" He called from behind the two women. James set the tansu frame down in front of the dryer. Vivian turned.

"Oh yeah, I'm good for now. I guess you're off to go get cleaned up for tonight, hey?"

"Are you saying I smell?" He joked, but kept his face serious for effect. Vivian grinned.

"Never, Jaegi, never. Only sweetly, I mean," She stretched her arms above her head, making a rim of cream-coloured skin form around her waist. "Thanks a ton for picking the two of us up today, I'd probably be hailing a cab were it not for you," Vivian told him gratefully. James smiled back.

"Anything for the shrimp," He returned playfully. Ivy smirked and Vivian pouted. "Anyways, sis, I have to run," He said, looking at his watch. "You know I didn't really mean the shrimp comment, right?"

"Only to the extent that it's true," She replied, smiling. "Sorry I can't make it tonight. I'd really love to go one of these days. Can you tell me when your next performance is?"

"Uh huh, I'll let you know as soon as I find out," He replied. He turned his keys over in his hand, then flashed them to the two women. "See you," He said quickly before starting down the hallway.

"Bye!" His sister called after him before closing the door. She directed her attention to Ivy. "Come on in," She offered with a wave of her hand. Ivy looked at her own feet for a moment, then bent down and slid the slippers off. She placed them beside Vivian's shoes, then followed the Korean from the door.

"Can you read this?" Ivy asked, her eyes fixed upon a piece of calligraphy in the tiny foyer. It consisted of three large characters, then several small ones on the bottom half of the left side. Two red marks almost like wax seals were in the very bottom corner underneath them. The piece was mounted on a very heavy dark green border, which made it nearly five and a half feet tall.

Vivian turned to face her. "Oh, that. That's my name," She explained. "That's how it's technically supposed to be written, with the proper characters. But most of the time I just write it in the Korean alphabet, it's much easier."

"Did you do this?"

"Oh no, my calligraphy's nowhere near that good," Vivian answered, embarrassed. "That was done by my brother, the one you just met. He's the arts guy of the family." She walked over to stand beside Ivy and admired how adept her brother's brush was. The characters looked almost fluid in composition, but strong against the white paper. He'd mounted it like a scroll, and given it to her as a convocation present.

"He's very skilled, very skilled indeed," Ivy remarked, looking the work up and down. "So what is your Korean name?" She asked directly.

"Hmm?" Vivian perked up. The Englishwoman's question had been very blunt, and the intern nearly jumped. 'Composure, you nut, composure,' She chided herself and stood up straight without looking overly formal.

"I asked you what your Korean name was," Ivy clarified. "Somehow I doubt 'Vivian' translates well."

"Oh," Vivian replied sheepishly. 'Now you look dumb, girl.' "It's Myong Ki Soo," She answered quickly, then took the box off the washing machine and the tansu frame in the other, then walked back towards the kitchen. Ivy spent one more moment by the scroll before joining her.

Vivian washed her hands in the sink. "Are you hungry?"

"Not yet," Ivy replied. She scanned over the apartment. It was a far cry from her former abode, both stylistically and in splendour, but there was a certain home like feeling in the decorations and it was welcoming.

'An open room living space. Hmm...' Ivy noted. 'Never seen that before. And there's her bed, and some sort of balcony I suppose. What's that odd fixture on the wall?' Ivy stared at the device. 'It's like a painting, but there's no picture. Maybe she'll explain later. What a gorgeous piano...' As Vivian began speaking again, Ivy tuned back in.

"Hmm, I'm not all that hungry either. I don't feel much like cooking tonight," The Korean rubbed her eyes. "What kind of food do you like?" She asked.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Chinese, Italian, Greek..." Vivian rattled off on her fingers. Ivy thought for a moment.

"What's Chinese food like?" She asked.

"Depends on the style. But it's pretty good," Vivian threw over her shoulder as she dug into the box of items from home. "On second thought, I'll do this later," She muttered. "So, Chinese tonight?" She asked, turning around.

"Yes please," Ivy answered. She bit her lip. "Um, Vivian..."

"Yes?" Vivian looked at Ivy, who was playing with the skirt of the chima jeogori.

"...If you wouldn't mind, would it be alright for me to... find something else to wear?" Her face reflected discomfort.

'I forgot about that.' Vivian snapped into action. "Oh yeah, sure," She said, flipping through the box to find her brother's stuff. "I'm really sorry I don't have anything else right now. I'll have to measure you and then try to find some clothing for you this weekend." She pulled out a folded set of rather large jeans and a hoodie. Vivian walked around the island, clothing in hand, and lead Ivy down the hallway to the guest room. With one hand she slid the panel open.

"This is where you'll be," Vivian gestured. The room was clean and presentable, not very big but certainly suitable.

'More than I'd get at any inn,' Ivy reminded herself. The single size mattress was bare. Vivian slid another wooden panel open, just behind the headboard, and revealed a closet. On her tiptoes, she reached up and felt around for the spare futon mattress. Finding it, she pulled it down and spread it over the sturdier one. With her other hand she grabbed a comforter from the same shelf, then spread that overtop of the bed as well. She took a pillow from the back of the closet, removed the case, then placed the pillow at the head of the bed.

"It's not very much," Vivian admitted. "But I can buy some things to make it nicer later. I do have some things from home I could put up, but I don't know if you'd think it looked too... I don't know, foreign for your tastes." Vivian licked her lips. "I've got a lot of stuff from way back when."

"Way back when?"

"I'm from Korea," Vivian explained, compulsively folding the pillow case. "I was born in the Seoul area, I don't know if you're familiar with it at all. My family didn't come to Canada until I was out of grade school. I'm a pretty new immigrant, I suppose." Vivian yawned, then held up the pillow case. "I'm going to wash this before you use it, it's probably dusty and that might irritate you if you sleep on it."

"Thank you for all this," Ivy gestured around the room. Vivian smiled back warmly, giving the older woman the oddest sort of shiver. She brushed the sensation off and hoped the intern hadn't noticed.

"Are you cold?" Vivian asked, mildly concerned.

The intern had very, very good eyesight.

One of the few fortunate people blessed with such in the family.

In short, damn.

Aware that she was being rude, Ivy shook her head. "Not at all," She added. Suddenly remembering what she had in her hand, Vivian set the clothing down on the newly made bed.

"Well, there you go," She said, the words feeling oddly lacking. "Let me know if you need help at all, that dress is probably quite different from anything you've worn before." Ivy nodded. "I'll try to offer any assistance I can." There, that seemed better.

Now the only issue would be having adequate nerves to actually help the Englishwoman were it necessary.

'You're a doctor, you loon,' The Korean remembered, as if in an epiphany. 'It's your job.'

Ivy nodded again, and Vivian smiled back. She took that as her cue to leave the room, sliding the door shut behind her.

--------------------------

Drained, Vivian took a few moments to collapse on her bed and try to relax.

Key word being 'try'.

Well, this was an interesting turn of events. Doctor gets patient. Doctor treats patient. Doctor sends patient home.

With Doctor.

She had long since determined that no, this wasn't a dream and she wasn't going to wake up any second now to find herself safe beneath her sheets. She had also long since given up trying to understand the situation, deciding that her boss surely had some kind of mystical, supernatural physician powers that allowed him to see into the future and make decisions accordingly, as if by some sort of divine entity he was a guru.

Or maybe he was just mean.

But it could be both.

She turned her head in the direction of her clock, trying to determine when she ought to phone for her- no, their dinner. Maybe it was only mental exhaustion, but she couldn't bring herself to actually pick up the phone, nor make something herself. Besides, there was always tomorrow to make something nice. And the day after that. And the month after that.

She shuddered at the prospect of the year after that.

She looked at the clock again, feeling frustrated that time wasn't passing very quickly. She closed her eyes and simply listened to the stillness of her loft. She heard only the hum of her fridge and the occasional rustling that she attributed to Ivy changing her clothes. Truly, at that exact moment her living quarters would be branded nothing short of an oasis of blissful tranquility.

Oh the irony.

Like a Greek tragedy.

An image of the older woman appeared in Vivian's head.

'I do like you,' Vivian told herself, or rather to the Englishwoman. 'I really do. I would've raised absolute hell with my boss if I felt that strongly against it. And if I had been able to speak at the time.' Vivian sighed quietly. 'But then why at the same time do I not like you?'

She tried to look at it logically. No one knew more about Ivy's care than herself, that much was true. She was a delicate patient who needed a physician who paid extreme attention to detail, that much was true as well. Vivian was skilled and certainly able to handle patients with specific, immediate needs, that kind of adaptability was learned quickly in an emergency room. And it was Vivian that Ivy seemed to trust more than anyone. Though none of those necessarily clinched the case, they were very strong points, especially when considering Ivy in particular.

Ivy wasn't a man, that much was certain.

"And thank _God_ for that," She muttered. Vivian couldn't possibly imagine how uncomfortable that would be, and not only would her family disagree, Yongseung would throw a fit...

Yongseung.

Vivian had forgotten to tell him of her transition from intern to innkeeper. She wasn't sure how he would react, his temper was like the tide. But surely he'd understand, wouldn't he? As much as she didn't like to think about it, this new situation may have just cancelled her dinner plans on Monday.

'Now_ that_ he won't like,' Vivian thought. 'We barely see each other as it is.' She was annoyed by the state of affairs but knew better than to blame her houseguest. 'It can't be helped. I should phone him tonight so he doesn't get his hopes up too much.' Vivian turned onto her side.

"I do like you," She whispered against the pillow.

And yet...

"Dr. Myong?" A voice unmistakably English called from the guest room.

"Yes?"

"... I don't know if I've done this properly," Ivy called, each word louder than the last and followed by a footstep. Reaching the rest of the loft, she looked at the intern sprawled on the bed. "Are you alright?" She asked.

Vivian sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Yes, I'm fine. Tired, if anything. Now, you were saying?" She looked at the very casually dressed Englishwoman.

"Is this how these are supposed to look?" Ivy pulled at the hoodie and jeans.

The answer to that question was largely dependent on the person asked. And not in the typical sense, either. The jeans looked alright, they were a slim leg on her brother and long as well, which translated to tight but not too tight on the older woman. Ivy turned slightly, showing Vivian how well the jeans fit over her curves without making them seem too big. They were perfect in the legs as well, so they would do for now. The hoodie belonged to James, so the idea of it being quite big was not a stretch.

Ironically however, that's exactly what the damn thing did. What would have fallen flat and hung loosely against James' torso was taken up largely by the Englishwoman's bust. Instead of falling against the crotch of the jeans as it would when James wore it, the bottom hem of the top sat just above Ivy's hips, on the edge of the jeans. It wasn't too tight but it wasn't very loose either. Ivy shape had won out over the garment and still showed off generous curves.

'Okay, the top is close to being skin tight. Ah well.' Vivian got up and looked closely at the clothing, walking around Ivy and occasionally pulling at the sides and such to check the fit. 'Certainly better like this than naked.'

She hoped Ivy would ignore the blush in her cheeks.

"It looks pretty good to me. Does it feel like it fits?" Vivian inquired.

"It's quite form fitting in the legs," Ivy remarked. "I'm not used to that. But this is still quite comfortable." She moved her arms a bit, checking to see how much movement the clothing would allow. It was very long in the arms, so there was no issue there either. Ivy slowly reached behind her head with both arms and pulled the hood up. She looked directly at Vivian, uncertain about how it looked.

'I hate to sound like Christine, but she looks so gangster,' Vivian thought. "How does that stuff compare to what you're used to?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well..." Vivian trailed off, searching for a good answer. "You've worn sweatshirts before, right? Or sweatpants?" 'There, that's a better question.'

Ivy looked confused. "No," She responded. "What are they?"

Damn. That was awkward.

Damn.

"Uh, well, they're basically clothes made out of this material." Vivian grabbed a handful.

Which would've been alright, had she paid attention to which handful and where.

Oh, she got a handful alright.

Handful indeed.

"I am so sorry," Vivian blurted her apology, her face a shade so impressive the Chinese flag was probably jealous.

Communist red just got redefined.

Unable to stop herself, Vivian bowed a little bit, just enough to be noticeable. She looked at the floor for a few seconds, then decided to turn her attention to the base boards on the far wall before returning to vertical.

Which was good for Ivy, who needed a moment to flush the colour from her face anyways.

"It's alright, perfectly alright," Ivy croaked, trying to diffuse the situation. Vivian looked at her, trying to determine how much of that calm was an act. "Bound to happen sooner or later."

...Wait.

...What?

Vivian gave a half-hearted laugh, trying to diffuse the situation again. She blinked a couple times and ran a nervous hand through her hair shakily. If she listened hard enough, she'd swear she heard crickets.

"... I'll go get dinner." She mumbled quickly and stumbled away to quest for the phone.

--------------------------

"You've never had this before," Vivian repeated, to make sure she'd heard Ivy correctly.

Ivy swallowed a mouthful of noodles. "Never," She reiterated. "Were you going to eat that chicken ball, Dr. Myong?" Vivian shook her head.

"You know you don't have to call me Dr. Myong, right?" Vivian asked rhetorically, stirring the contents of her bowl with her chopsticks. "You can just call me Vivian, right?" She placed a package of Shanghai noodles and lemon chicken in her mouth and chewed slowly.

Since it was oddly nice out that evening the two ate at the Japanese table by the screen door, which was ajar for fresh air. Most of the lights were off, except for the few by the table and above the sink.

"Just call me Vivian," The intern stated after Ivy remained silent. She set down her chopsticks and rubbed her eyes. "Been a long day, hasn't it?" She tried, for conversation's sake.

Which had been oddly sparse, but she wasn't wondering why.

Ivy finished chewing and took a drink of ginseng tea. "Indeed," She agreed. She was sitting very stiffly, making Vivian look almost comical in comparison.

'I bet she'd be more comfortable in a chair,' The intern guessed. 'Or maybe her back is permanently fixed that way.'

Ivy looked out at the city, taking in the impossibly tall structures and bright lights. Somewhere in that labyrinth something made a loud, aggressive honking sound, like an angry fowl but much, much bigger. 'Such a strange place. Looking more normal is going to be much harder than I thought.'

"Something the matter?" Vivian asked her. Ivy snapped to attention.

'Mental note one: Avoid looking like there actually is a problem.' Ivy smiled. "Perhaps I am just tired." 'That, and I don't think this food is sitting very well.' Ivy placed a hand over her stomach while the intern's face was hidden, focusing instead on slurping up some rice noodles.

'She does look tired indeed,' Ivy noted, studying what she could see of Vivian from behind the bowl. Her eyes seemed to be less energetic and her mouth (although occupied with noodles) too thin. Ivy looked deeper into Vivian's face, losing a sense of time and place, and effectively missing the moment when the intern looked up from her rice bowl.

Swimming pools. No, oceans, yes, that's what they were. Azure oceans that went on forever, encircling a tiny shadowy island. And as perfect as they were on their own, even they were framed by perfection. Perfect little lashes. Perfect lids. Perfect cheeks. Every detail exceptional, striking but cohesive, harmonizing but not unbalanced, like a polished symphony; like snowflakes on a silent night, like the moon in summer.

But even that didn't touch the surface, let alone scratch it, it was nowhere close to describing how perfect it really was. She didn't know the name for it, or perhaps it didn't have one. It was nevertheless indescribable at any rate, in either language she spoke, no, in any language at all. It defied words, it eluded them, the right words were missing or perhaps there simply weren't any to begin with. Subtle yet noticeable. Blatantly invisible.

Vivian blinked.

"Oh, it's gotten late hasn't it?" She asked loudly. Ivy jumped. Vivian smiled at her, sitting ramrod straight. She yawned and stretched her arms over her head, taking a moment to sneak a glance at the clock on the microwave. It was actually only about 7:30, but probably about time to turn in, right? Early to bed, early to rise didn't the saying go?

Vivian blinked again. Hell, even she was unconvinced.

"Very well," Ivy responded, looking down at the table. Several containers made out of an odd white substance were opened, their contents eaten for the most part. Feeling like she had eaten enough, at least as much as her stomach was going to allow, ('Oh that hurts.') Ivy pushed her bowl away from her and began to close the lids on the containers.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Vivian told her, smiling still, albeit a bit more genuinely this time. Ivy looked at her, a little surprised. "I'll take care of this stuff. It's an easy job, really." Vivian brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "Just go relax on the chesterfield for a while and then I'll help you find some pyjamas and stuff, okay?"

"Oh... alright," Ivy acquiesced, returning the smile. She got up from the table and walked away. 'Alright, objective number two,' Ivy thought, looking around. 'Determine what a "chesterfield" is.' She looked at Vivian to ensure the Korean hadn't noticed her, then continued looking around the room. 'Hmm. She said sit on it, so I doubt it's that thing over there... She didn't say bench, so that rules out that one-'

"Is there a problem?" Vivian asked, turning around.

'Yes. What the dickens is a "chesterfield"?' At a loss for words, Ivy remained silent.

"Oh, I see," Vivian exclaimed, apparently coming to a realization. "Of course, I get it now. I said couch."

"..Y-yes," Ivy spoke up. 'Let's see where she's going with this.'

"I get it now, no wonder you look so confused," Vivian continued.

"Y-you do?" Ivy stuttered, surprised but careful so as not to make it terribly obvious. 'She actually understands? No, she's mistaken, she can't possibly understand what I mean.'

"Yes, of course," Vivian said again. She giggled for a moment. "I'm speaking Canadian English, no wonder you don't know what a chesterfield is."

"...Y-yes," Ivy said shakily. 'Make it convincing Isabella.' "Yes, yes exactly," She agreed, nodding vigorously. 'Don't look daft Isabella.' She toned her gesture down.

"I'm sorry about that, I'd forgotten for a moment. You won't know what a chesterfield is, you need the British equivalent," Vivian explained. She smiled.

...Could it be?

"Have a seat on the sofa," She offered.

... Bloody hell.

Bloody, bloody hell.

"Y-yes, thank you," Ivy lied, trying as hard as she possibly could to look like she understood on some sort of level what the intern was referring to. 'Time to take a guess,' She decided, walking over to sit on a chair-like piece of furniture covered in what appeared to be leather. Vivian smiled one more time before returning to her clean-up job. 'Not a bad guess at all,' Ivy thought, relaxing into the comfortable sofa, or whatever it was called.

A few minutes later an odd buzzing sound came from the foyer and Vivian, having finished cleaning up, ran to check on something. A moment later she came back with the pillow case, which she promptly ran off with into the guest bedroom.

"Now," She called after a few moments. Ivy turned to look at her, but remained seated. "Let me take a look in here," Vivian opened the tall closet beside her bed and looked in the cubby holes in one of the hanging storage devices. She pulled something out of them and unrolled it. "My grandmother bought these for my mother, but she didn't like them. They might fit you, and if not it'll be a near fit," Vivian walked over and handed the Englishwoman a pair of silk pyjamas with a matching robe.

"Sorry if they're not quite what you were expecting. They're pretty Asian, I'll admit," Vivian chuckled. "They were a souvenir from my grandmother's trip earlier this year. One-hundred percent Korean pyjamas." The set consisted of a short sleeve top in pink tourmaline with a high collar and a strip of red down the left side, concealing buttons. The other half of the ensemble was a matching pair of loose pants with a drawstring closure.

"They're beautiful," Ivy murmured as Vivian placed them in her hands. "They'll be just fine I think." She stood up and stretched. "Is it normal to feel this tired?" She asked.

"Maybe you're jetlagged," Vivian suggested.

"...Yes, perhaps," Ivy murmured, trying her hardest to look up to date. "I suppose I'll turn in now then," She thought out loud.

"Okay then, I was thinking of doing the same. I'll go shopping tomorrow and get some things for you," Vivian told her. "It's not very often that I have visitors."

Ivy nodded and the room fell silent. For a moment the two merely stood there, looking about the room, before Ivy walked around the couch and walked over to the sliding panel.

"Goodnight," She called.

"Goodnight," She heard Vivian reply before the door slid shut behind her.

--------------------------

Amazingly enough, doors could be indeed be opened with only three fingers. Vivian shuffled inside as best she could, pushing the door open with her back, then let it close heavily behind her. She put down the various bags of newly purchased goods and shook her arms to get the blood flowing again.

She hadn't intended to do it. Seeing had lead to touching had lead to trying on had lead to buying...

...Had lead to three skirts, four new shirts, a blouse, a couple pairs of boots, one new jacket and a purse that matched all of it.

But she'd meant well.

She had managed to find some clothing for her new houseguest that looked to be the right size, according to how well her brother's clothing had fit yesterday. She'd found a couple pairs of more feminine jeans, a couple sweaters; one a turtleneck and the other with a v-neck down the front, three or four different t-shirts, a few pairs of socks that looked like they'd fit (needless to say, their feet were not the same size), and a pair of standard canvas running shoes. When she thought about all of that, she felt a little less guilty about it.

Truly, the words "all items marked down" were sent from heaven.

She'd also gone out and finally gotten that much-needed haircut, and even some colour in her hair, just because. Christine would be proud of her. Her hair was slightly shorter now, but still long enough to braid or leave down. She moved her cranberry bangs over to one side with a shake of her head.

Vivian picked everything up again and set it down beside her bed. She placed her new clothes on the bed, and kept Ivy's on the floor.

'I'll wait until she wakes up to show her. It's nothing terribly urgent,' She thought. Her cell phone, a thin blue Samsung straight from Korea via Yongseung, informed her that the time was half past noon. She pocketed the device and walked over to the fridge in search of leftover noodles.

"Satellite's a good thing," The intern said to herself as she sat down to an episode of Dae Jang Geum. 'Hmm, I think I've seen this one. Let's try another channel..' She flipped through the digital menu quickly, not feeling in the mood for anything heavy but nothing too stupid either. The Asian channel package had its perks, including several Korean, Japanese, and Chinese channels, and even a couple from India as well. 'Hmm, this looks good,' She decided, looking over a Cantonese soap opera. She pressed a few buttons and turned the Korean subtitling on. With the other hand she grabbed her noodles and chopsticks, then kicked back and ate.

--------------------------

Ivy rolled over onto her stomach, hoping that would make a difference. She could hear someone speaking softly in the background, but she recognized neither the language nor the voice. At best, she could only guess that it was some form of Chinese. The intern must have a visitor, she guessed, but why they would speak to her in Chinese Ivy didn't know. 'Nothing says she can't speak three languages,' She told herself. Realizing that this new position wasn't doing anything, Ivy rolled back onto her back and shut her eyes tightly.

'This food can't be settling right,' She thought, but she knew better than to jump to conclusions. No, Vivian was not trying to poison her. That left...

Oh no.

--------------------------

'Okay, never mind, that wasn't so good,' Vivian thought as the end credits rolled. 'Daytime TV is disappointing enough as it is, let alone on weekends.' Her cell phone chirped at her, alerting her to a new message. She fished it out of her pocket, finding on its screen a text message from Christine.

_hey who was that person wit u in the car?_

'Damnit, she's not going to let that one go,' Vivian rubbed her temple. Quickly she typed back:

_I told you already, there was nobody else with me except James. See you later!_

Repetition taught everything, even lies.

'Ah well, what's the worst she could do?' Vivian put her phone on the table in front of her. 1:30, it proclaimed in large text. Still no signs of movement from down the hall.

It would only be two hours later that Vivian might suspect that something was wrong.

--------------------------

It wasn't very often that Ivy felt overwhelmingly stupid. She knew she was in a class apart from most people, well she had been anyways, until she got here. Still, she was quite quick-witted and easily adapted to most situations, so it wasn't very often that she felt dumb.

Not often, but sometimes. And this was one of them.

Still trying to find a comfortable position, Ivy brought her heels up to rest against her behind, letting her legs drift apart slightly. She pressed one of her hands right against the waistband of her pyjamas, hoping it would make some sort of a difference. The heat from her palm was slightly comforting, but wasn't effective at taking her mind off of the pangs of discomfort. On top of that, she felt hot and cold at the same time, as if she needed to peel her skin off like clothing for relief, but couldn't pile enough blankets on top of her either. The prospect of that, along with the awkward position she was in, wasn't very ladylike, she decided.

And yet the cruel irony of it was that she was in a way being very ladylike.

Oh, this was embarrassing.

The voices from down the hallway seemed to be gone, whoever it was must've left. Ivy had noticed that the door hadn't opened or closed, nor were there footsteps, but another sharp pain refocused her thoughts on the matter at hand.

"Ivy?" The intern's voice called softly. Ivy made out the tiny shadow of Vivian behind the sliding screen.

Ivy put her legs back down slowly, to avoid causing further discomfort.

"Yes?" She replied at length.

"May I open the door?"

Ivy breathed through another sharp stab. "...Yes." She tried not to sound like she was in too much pain. The door slid open and shut, admitting the Korean doctor, who did look a little bit concerned.

"How are you today?" Vivian asked. 'Aside from in pain, I mean.'

'Maybe she doesn't think I'm sick yet.' "Um, I'm quite good, and you?" Ivy returned.

"Pretty good. How did you sleep?"

"Very well, thank you," Ivy replied. "Perhaps my eyesight is going, but... your hair doesn't happen to be red, does it?"

Vivian gave her a small smile. "Yeah, I got it done this morning. I can't dye my hair often, otherwise it would look horrible."

Ivy stopped herself before she objected to that. "It's very nice," She complimented instead. Vivian smiled again.

"I hope you don't mind me asking this," Vivian started, sounding official. "Are you feeling alright?"

'Yes. No. Yes. _No._ Damn.' Ivy swallowed her indecision. "I'm... feeling a little pain, but other than that, I'm alright I think."

'Uh oh,' Vivian thought. 'We might be going back to the hospital for this one.' "When did it start?" She inquired.

"Sometime yesterday, in the early afternoon," Ivy breathed.

'What?' "Why didn't you mention it to me earlier?" Vivian asked a little more forcefully than intended. She scooted a little closer to the bed.

Ivy looked away. "It wasn't as bad then as it is now," She explained. "I thought I was just hungry at first, then I thought dinner wasn't agreeing with me. Apparently... ugh.. not." Another hot spell passed over her, followed by a wave of arctic chills. Her right hand somehow found it's way back to her stomach.

'This could not be good,' Vivian scanned her patient. She cleared her throat. "Would you mind if I examined you? It's nothing very intrusive." Ivy looked into her concerned eyes for a moment, then nodded consent.

"First of all, I'm going to remove this," Vivian announced as she pulled off the comforter. Ivy shivered all over, but resisted the urge to fold into a ball. Vivian took careful mental notes of this reaction. She gestured for Ivy to lay her hands at her sides. The Englishwoman did so quickly, not wanting to delay the physician.

The intern felt Ivy's forehead with the back of her hand, then did the same to both cheeks. "You have a fever, that may be contributing to the pain. Is it an ache all over or is it centralized?"

"Centralized, I think. In my abdomen.," Ivy answered. Vivian nodded, began forming a list of possible diagnoses, and placed her hands gently underneath Ivy's ribcage. Ivy recoiled slightly.

"Does that hurt?" Vivian asked right away. 'That can't be good. Not good at all.'

"N-no," Ivy stuttered, realizing how convincing that sounded. "Not at all," She tried again. Vivian looked at her for a moment, then put her hands back in their former positions.

'Flesh is warm but not hot; gives easily to pressure, that might rule out internal bleeding...' Vivian pondered, moving her hands and pressing slightly each time. She traced along the bottom of the ribcage at first, then went down the sides of Ivy's lily white torso ('She doesn't get enough sun.'). Again she found nothing out of the ordinary, so she moved onto Ivy's belly to examine it further. It took only a moment of gentle prodding of her internal organs for the intern to hit pay dirt.

"It seems that something here is... wait a minute," Her eyebrows furrowed, her fingers fierce. "Hmm, it seems that your lower ribs aren't in alignment with the rest of them."

"Is that bad?" Ivy breathed through the discomfort.

"Not necessarily," Vivian replied. "It's nothing terrible so long as they're not putting pressure on anything else." She examined them one last time, then moved further south to the stomach. Whereas the misaligned ribs were probably nothing to worry about, since they hadn't given her trouble before now, what the intern found next was a little more disturbing.

The stomach seemed different somehow. She carefully went over the organ again. 'This can't be right,' She told herself, and examined it a third time. 'How can this be? Let's try something else too...'

Now filled with genuine concern, Vivian moved past the stomach onto the liver. 'What the...?' She prodded it again, trying to stay relatively gentle for her patient. 'What the hell is going on here?' Attempting to keep a fairly professional manner, she went over the liver again to be sure of what she'd found. 'And where the hell did these come from? And _these_?' She pressed against the organ. '...No way. This doesn't make sense.'

She tried to relax her face as best she could.

"Okay, I'm going to keep examining your digestive tract," She announced. Ivy nodded, then closed her eyes again. 'Keep the patient calm. The ideal thing to do in these situations is to keep the patient calm.' The intern moved her fingers steadily down the Englishwoman's abdomen. 'Spleen... kidneys... intestines... I've never seen this before.'

After all, it wasn't everyday that a patient's internal workings were twisted completely out of shape, and in the case of the liver, sprouting auxiliary organs.

Vivian racked her brain, but to no avail. If the accessible organs were any indication, the Englishwoman's lungs were probably deformed as well. She realized that this had never shown up before because they had had no need to perform an in-depth x-ray of her abdomen. Still... Could this somehow be related, even minutely, to the abdominal pain Ivy was experiencing now?

'This could be much worse than indigestion,' Vivian thought. 'Radiation poisoning? Might explain the deformed organs and the fever. Appendicitis? The fever, but definitely not the organs.'

"Is there... something wrong?" Ivy inquired, shivering.

"I'm not certain yet," Vivian answered truthfully. "I'll think I'll know what's wrong in a minute." Vivian felt Ivy shift her hips a little, then go still again. 'I may only have a minute to figure this out anyways.

'Then again, such deformations aren't consistent with what she's complained of. From the degree to which this has progressed, these have taken a long time to form, under intense, all-around pressure… Around the abdomen, and lower ribs…'

…All-around like a very tight and slightly uncomfortable piece of clothing.

"What have you found?" Her patient inquired.

"…By any chance, do you happen to like corsets?" Vivian asked. 'Don't question it, just answer.'

"I wear… Rather, I wore them almost all the time, why do you ask?"

Vivian breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay. Some of your internal organs have been moved around or changed shape slightly, characteristics of a corset-wearer. Or rather, a corset that's a little too tight." Vivian pushed her bangs over to one side with her hand. "Very well. Now, where did you say it hurt?"

Ivy pointed at her abdomen again, except a little lower this time. Vivian replaced her hands in the new position and gently felt around the area, which was a little swollen. Her hands moved over the entire portion of the Englishwoman's torso.

"It seems to be a little swollen right about here," Vivian observed, touching the area again for complete understanding.

"Um, Vivian, if you don't mind me interjecting," Ivy started, her throat dry.

Vivian looked up again. 'Now or never, she's going to find out in two minutes anyways.'

"Yes?" She asked.

"I think I may have identified the source of the problem," Ivy informed her quietly. She tried very hard not to blush.

"Oh? What do you think?" Vivian asked. 'If she's got at least an idea of what it might be, anything will help.'

"…I do believe," Ivy started, trying to get comfortable. "That I may be experiencing my monthly menstrual cycle."

"…Oh," Vivian replied. 'Well, that certainly fits everything she's complained of. She must be mighty embarrassed.' "I see. Then I suppose that the abdominal pain is related to…?"

"Yes," Ivy replied.

"And the swelling is also related to…?"

"Yes," Ivy confirmed.

"And the fevers and chills are…?"

"Ooooh yes," Ivy shuddered.

"Hmm," Vivian mused. 'Well, that's a relief. That's nothing too serious.' "Very well then. I'll be back in a minute, I just need to make sure I have sufficient supplies for you," And with that the door slid open.

'What sort of supplies?' Ivy wanted to ask, but knew better. Whatever they were, they would surely serve their purpose.

"It looks like I don't have to go buy some more stuff, so that's good. Would you like me to help you up?" Vivian asked when she returned. Ivy shook her head, summoned the required strength, and pushed her legs over the side of the bed and forced weight onto them. The mere act of shifting her balance seemed to upset her internal workings further, but Ivy made certain not to display this to her physician.

"I imagine that you'll probably want to have a shower," Vivian said when she had shuffled her patient into the washroom. "Are there any sorts of painkillers that you can't take?"

"I don't think so," Ivy replied truthfully.

"Okay. I'll get you a drink and a couple ibuprofens. I've found that something hot helps keep the pains away as well, would you like some tea?"

"Yes please."

"Hot tea and medicine coming right up," Vivian smiled. "There's a towel on the back of the door, and tampons in the cabinet under the sink. If those pyjamas need washing too I can put them in the washer right after your shower."

"I'll let you know," The Englishwoman said. Vivian smiled again, then closed the door.

'Now then,' Ivy cleared her mind. 'How the hell do I use this?'

--------------------------

"Are those comfortable?" Vivian asked as Ivy swallowed the pills.

"Very," She answered. "Thank you very much." The cramping had lessened after the shower, which despite the technological advances from the few and far between shower facilities of the 16th century, hadn't been too hard to figure out. After cleaning herself up properly, the Englishwoman had tried on some of the clothing that Vivian had bought her earlier that day and was surprised to find it very comfortable.

'Mind you, considering what I used to wear, anything is comfortable,' Ivy reminded herself, sipping the hot tea.

"Those should start working right away, but would you like a snack as well? Sometimes that speeds the process." Vivian asked, sipping at her own tea.

'Somehow I doubt whatever you just had me eat is going to do very much of anything, but we'll try it.'

"Hmm, yes please," Ivy replied. "Nothing too big however, I don't want to completely spoil my appetite."

Vivian searched her fridge for something that met those specifications. She placed a couple leftover dumplings beside some tomato on a plate in front of her guest, then gave her a knife and fork.

"Thank you," Ivy said. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, trying to find a way to get comfortable on the stool. She couldn't remember what the intern had called the blue garment on her legs, or what she had on her top half, but she quite liked both of them already.

"Dinner will be ready in a little less than an hour and a half, is that alright?" But before Ivy could answer the intern, the phone rang. "I'll be back in a moment," Vivian excused herself and jogged towards the phone. 'Myong Dae Jung' was on the line.

"Hello?" The intern asked. "Oh, hi mom, how are you?... Yes, I did come over today... Well, no I didn't wait because Christine made it sound like you were busy... No, it's not her fault. Anyways, how was your day?"

Ivy listened closely to the exchange, not entirely understanding the concept or means by which they were speaking with each other but certainly understanding the mother-daughter dynamic in play.

"Why am I speaking English? No reason... Is there some sort of law against speaking English mom?"

"Don't you start like that with me, I get enough from Christine as it is. And don't think I can't enforce the same rules even though you're out of my house," A Mi threatened.

"Sorry mom, I didn't mean it like that... What did Christine say?... _What_?" Vivian's voice was slightly angry. "That's not true... She must have just misinterpreted me mom, because nothing like that happened... No mom, I'm not engaged yet, I hardly see the guy... Why haven't you met him? Um, I don't know..."

Ivy tried to focus on her food more than their conversation. She slipped a tomato into her mouth.

"Yes mom, I actually do have a boyfriend. Would I lie to you about that? ...Look, I promise you'll meet him soon, okay? He's a really nice guy, I swear... Listen, I have to run sort of, I've got some company over for dinner tonight... No, just a friend of mine from work... Okay... Yes, I will... Alright, bye." Vivian clicked the off button.

"Sometimes she drives me insane," Vivian admitted as she sat back down across from her "friend from work". Ivy smirked.

"My mother used to do that too. I was never enough of a lady for her, I think," Ivy told her. "I guess I was what you could call a manly woman when I was growing up." Vivian smiled.

"I don't think that was ever my issue, well not entirely anyways," She replied. "I acted just as a good Korean ought to. But I did have my... quirks, to put it lightly." Vivian took another sip of tea. "I didn't turn out to be the perfect, marriageable woman my mother had been planning."

"Neither did I. I always identified with my father more than her."

"Me too..." Vivian trailed off, not certain how to continue the conversation. She changed tactics. "Have those pills kicked in yet?"

"I think so, I don't feel anything anymore." Ivy touched her lower abdomen and pressed against it, feeling no pain. 'They actually worked after all!'

"Good, that should help keep you comfortable." Vivian took Ivy's dirty plate and cutlery and deposited them in the sink. "Would you like any more tea?" She asked. Ivy shook her head. Vivian reached across the table to take the Englishwoman's mug as well, not seeing that Ivy was already moving to push the mug to her. Vivian's hand got there first, Ivy's second.

"Oh!" Vivian jumped, surprised. She looked for half a second at the Englishwoman's warm pale hand, which completely covered her own. They broke apart nearly instantaneously, as if each was burned by the other. "Sorry about that," She apologized, pulling her hand back. Ivy pushed the mug towards her, which the Korean took and put in the sink.

"Am I still feverish, Dr. Myong?" Ivy asked. Vivian reached over the counter again and felt the Englishwoman's forehead.

"No, why?"

"Because it seems to be getting very warm in here," Ivy noted. After checking the thermostat, Vivian had to agree.

--------------------------

"It's broken alright," The elderly, balding Mr. Lam said, hunched over the radiator. He'd checked the one in Ivy's room and the one by the piano and come to the same conclusion.

"This one not too bad," He gestured to the one by the piano, fixing his owl rims at the same time. "Hers much worse," He pointed at Ivy this time. "Maybe hard to fix. Maybe need to order new part for it. Very expensive." Although the slightly overweight man had lived in Canada for many years now, he'd not cared enough to polish his English. It was what he didn't or couldn't say however that interested Vivian more.

'Very expensive', for example, meant "If you don't want to fry, you will line my wallet generously. Preferably with twenties, they're nice and convenient."

"Can you turn the heat down somehow?" Vivian asked, trying to make herself comfortable without shedding too much clothing. The old guy was a bit of a letch, or so she had figured out when he met her sister.

And he had the creepiest laugh too...

"Don't know. Maybe if I turn off, but then you will be very cold." He wiped his forehead with his sleeve.

Another thing about him: For no reason whatsoever, he was always sweating. He'd sweat in winter. He'd sweat in rain. He'd sweat in a freezer.

He'd probably sweat to death in Antarctica, for all Vivian knew.

"Better to leave like this. You can wear shorts all the time." He looked at Vivian first, then Ivy, as if imagining them in said shorts. Vivian noted how he looked at Ivy for a while longer. "Be very nice."

'Oh, I bet it would be, you little _byuntae_, but you're not going to see _anything_,' Vivian thought bitterly. "When do you think you can fix it?" She asked instead.

"Don't know. I order new part on Monday, probably get by end of next week." He told her.

'What? Ah, damn.' "Okay, that'll be alright I suppose. Thank you for coming Mr. Lam," Vivian said back. He put the panel back on the radiator, then stood up straight, slouched again, and began to shuffle to the door. Vivian and Ivy followed close behind him, both of them trying to adjust their clothing.

"I phone you when parts come," He promised, putting on his shoes. He bent down to do so, but kept his eyes up to stare at Ivy's legs.

'Oh, the double-edged sword-like nature of hipster jeans,' Vivian lamented internally. She cleared her throat, which seemed to redirect Mr. Lam's attention from her guest's feet to his own. He stood up again, took another look at both women, said goodbye then closed the door behind him.

Vivian sighed.

"I don't know how much warmer it's going to get in here," She admitted as they walked into the kitchen. "I'll be back in a moment," She walked over to her bed, then closed the curtains facing Ivy. True to her word, one moment later the Korean reappeared in a light cotton tank top and matching white capris. "Let me know if you want something lighter as well," Vivian addressed the Englishwoman. "I don't do particularly well in heat."

The two of them finished eating dinner in relative silence, having started it while waiting for Mr. Lam to finish his own meal and hurry over. Vivian stared at her pasta for a moment, wondering if the heat was getting to her or if...

Nah, it's the heat.

"That was delicious," Ivy complimented, handing Vivian her plate. The intern had decided to make dinner, which consisted of lemon spaghetti with homemade meat and vegetable sauce, a Greek style salad with balsamic vinaigrette, and after consulting Ivy, a small glass of Chardonnay. Turned out the Englishwoman knew her European wines.

"You're welcome," Vivian replied, rinsing the dishes that had accumulated over the past two days and depositing them in the dishwasher. Seeing that it was nearly full, she reached underneath the sink for the soap powder, sprinkled enough into the compartment, then put it back. "How do you feel now?" She asked.

"Very good," Ivy replied. "Except for perhaps... whatever you gave me earlier... It's a little uncomfortable." Vivian looked at her in confusion first, comprehension second.

"Hmm. That may mean you're not quite doing it right. It takes a little practice," Vivian explained. "When you change it tonight give it another shot." Ivy nodded, then stretched her arms above her head, making her bellybutton poke out from underneath her shirt.

"I'm glad those fit," Vivian said. "I wasn't entirely certain about the sizes, I just went with approximations based on how big my brother's clothes were."

"They're just perfect, I think," Ivy replied. "It's not like I'm growing anymore anyways, right?" She stifled a yawn. "That man that was here... has he always been like that?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Vivian answered. "I'm sorry if he made you uncomfortable."

"Nothing I haven't dealt with before," Ivy said. "The men I've met... have tended to do that sometimes. One just gets used to it after a while."

"Hmm," Vivian hummed.

--------------------------

Three hours and two Iced Cappuccinos each later, Vivian lay sprawled on one section of couch and Ivy on the other. Both knew that they may very well be glued to the leather, but neither wanted to move.

"How hot do you think it is now?" Ivy broke the silence.

Vivian estimated quickly. "Somewhere between 35-42 degrees," She answered. The change of clothes hadn't done quite as much as she wanted to, but wasn't quite comfortable with sitting in her underwear in front of the older woman. 'She's still my patient,' Vivian reminded herself. 'I see her naked, not the other way around... Actually I think I'm going to forget I ever thought of that,' She silenced herself. 'Damn heat.' She cursed.

"I wonder how hot it is in your room..." Vivian mused out loud, peeling herself away from the couch and strolling down the hallway. Ivy opened her eyes enough to see Vivian open the door, enter the room, then run out and close it behind her a moment later.

Ivy sat up, slightly concerned. "Is it that bad?" She asked.

"All that and more," Vivian replied. "There's no way you can sleep in there tonight. Even if you could, you'll bake and that's not good considering your condition."

"What do you suggest I do?" Ivy had asked.

And that, Vivian remembered, was what lead to a search fruitless search for sleeping space around her apartment. That, she remembered, had lead to a fruitless effort to drag the mattress and futon out of Ivy's room without dying. That, she remembered, had lead to a fruitless search for enough blankets to create a mattress out of on the floor. And that, Vivian remembered, had lead to this.

Vivian rolled onto her side, sweating bullets, trying desperately to ignore both the heat of the apartment and the natural heat of the tall pale body beside her.

--------------------------

Author's Notes: Ah, finally! This update has been a long time coming and I apologize for the wait. I needed some time to work out more of the details, and with homework and exams factored it, that took much longer than I thought it would.

Aside from the theme/imagery I put in this chapter (see if you can guess what it was), I also took the time in this chapter to establish one of my subplots, that plot being repetition teaches everything, even lies. If you're motivated (read: if you're a nerd) try and trace it though the rest of the story. But unlike my English teacher, I won't make you write a presentation on it. Or a commentary. Be thankful, I tell you.

Just kidding.

Some updates for your Korean dictionary:

_Jot degari_ - a lovely little phrase indeed. The Korean equivalent of dick head.  
_Unni_ - The korean word for Older Sister (as spoken by a younger sister; familial titles are where the language can get very complicated). Used sometimes as a suffix.  
_Hangeul_ - The Korean alphabet, derived back in the 16th century to teach everyone to read, instead of letting the nobles and higher-ups read Chinese characters.  
_Beoteo_ - Korean word for butter, if that wasn't sortof obvious in the pun.  
_Tansu_ - A kind of chest, used for medicines or other personal items. They come in a variety of shapes, styles and sizes. Aside from their functionality they are also very pretty pieces to have in one's home for decorative purposes.  
_Byuntae_ - Korean word for perv, very appropriate in that situation if I do say so myself.


End file.
